Twenty-four
by Crowdreamer
Summary: Second half of the season finale, Her Negotiation. Nuff said. Plus a special appearance by our favorite departed detective. Please do not read if you are squeamish.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's comments:**__ Okay, I don't know bout y'all, but I can NOT wait an entire summer to find out what happens to Olivia. And I cannot help my actions in writing this story—those bastards at NBC put the ideas into my head, dammit. I know there are probably a dozen other similar stories being written right now, but I haven't even looked, because I have my own version, and it is sick and sadistic._

_ Here it is, in all its darkness, because I don't want to wait and watch the sissy version of the real thing, where Olivia gets saved in the first two minutes. No, I want to imagine the worst thing that could happen, and this is it. So if you get squirmy, or light-headed, or triggered in any way, please go read some soft porn E/O stuff on the T pages. But if, like me, you have a sociopathic tendency that needs see Olivia suffer, keep reading. Mwah ha ha!_

_ Oh, and spoiler alert, Elliot comes back in my story, too. So there. _

_**Spoilers:**__ Her Negotiation, Smoked, and Scorched Earth_

**Twenty-four**

Chapter One

Hour Twenty-Four

Part 1.

Olivia had known something was up. When she entered her apartment, she had that feeling—the one where the creepy-crawlies made every hair stand on end—on her arms, on the back of her neck. Ignoring it would cost her dearly, and she would never forgive herself after this. She knew that, once her own gun was pointing towards her head, and that sick fuck Lewis was at the other end.

Part 2.

Elliot saw the report on the news about the rapist set free in Manhattan, and he couldn't help thinking of her. She would be horrified right now—obsessing over the injustice of it all, going over her playbook again and again to try and think of a new angle, a new way to stop him. He sighed. He respected her for that.

Since he had left, he had not been able to connect with anyone at his new job as a bouncer. Things went downhill—Kathy left him, but for good this time. Now he only saw his kids on the weekend, and there was a gaping hole where their daily presence had been. And the hole only widened when he thought of Olivia.

Over the past few days, he had become more and more obsessed with the idea of going back. If not for good, at least to explain himself to her. How the shooting had given him nightmares. How he had become overprotective with his daughters, to the point of driving them away. The job had taken its toll on him, and the shooting was his breaking point. He could not tell her at the time, but he felt ready to talk about it now.

The news announcer concluded the story by saying that the "alleged" rapist was out on bail. He worried about her safety. Now was the time to return.

Part 3.

"Ah—ha ha! Gotcha," he said with a smile, pushing her toward the bedroom.

"You'll never get away with this," she said through panting breaths. "Why don't you just let me go?"

He must have seen the panic seeping through her brave façade, because his smile widened, like a little boy who knows he's been bad but is never punished. He shook his head. "No way. And miss such a great time with you? Not a chance."

She closed her mouth, but kept her eyes fixed on him. The tension filled every second as she tried to slow her racing thoughts and come up with a way out. As if he could hear her, he said, "Don't even think about trying to escape." He sizzled through his teeth, "I _will _kill you."

To emphasize his words, he brought the gun to her chest, and pointed it straight at her heart. She kept her hands up, and said, "Okay, okay. But let's just talk about this, okay?"

"Let's not!" he snapped. "Into the bedroom."

She closed her eyes and sighed before complying. There was no way she was going to make a move right now—this guy would kill her, she had no doubt that he was that bold. As he shoved her toward the bed, she decided to try and placate him. "Look, maybe I was a little hard on you in questioning—"

"Damn right you were, bitch," he said, his voice louder. "I don't like to be treated that way."

She nodded. "I know, I know," she said gently. "And maybe I can make it up to you. You know, I could get you a lighter sentence."

He chortled. "You know what I hate about you? _Olivia._" His lips curled into a sneer. "You think I'm stupid. And that just pisses me off, because I'm really smart."

He jabbed the gun into her ribs as he said the last few words, and she tried to hide her flinching. "I don't think you're stupid, Billy—"

"Shut up." His voice was loud but controlled, his eyes on fire. His smile returned. "Just take off your clothes so we can get to the fun part."

Her mind screamed "No," but what choice did she have? She moved slowly and deliberately, to demonstrate her willingness to cooperate. Meanwhile, she watched his every move, hoping to spot a mistake on his part, however slight, so that she could make a move to free herself. But the barrel of the gun never left her side.

With her eyes on him, she unbuttoned her blouse, and slipped it off. "Mmmm . . ." he said, his eyes sparkling as it slid to the floor. "Now the rest of it. Any order you want, but I want it all off."

Trying to still her shaking hands, she unbuttoned her skirt and let it drop. "Billy . . ." she tried one more time.

"It's Mr. Lewis to you," he said, "And no more talking."

"Kay," she whispered, and pulled off her panty hose. She tried to keep her breathing in check, but her lungs couldn't take in air fast enough. And then she remembered—Brian was supposed to come by tonight. He had her keys. He was late, which meant he might show up any second. She clung to the hope like a child holding onto candy.

She hesitated before starting on her bra. The more time she could buy, the better. "Now the rest," he said.

She stumbled to find the hooks in the back, but she didn't want to stall too long. Who knew how this guy would react when he got impatient. The hooks were undone, a draft brushing her bare chest, and now only one piece of clothing stood between her and nothingness. Silence enveloped her near-nakedness as she stood, unable to force herself to remove her underwear. Her heart pounded as she contemplated what might happen next.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's comments:**__ It's about to get serious, so…just warning you. I'm afraid some of you are going to be disappointed…I don't want to give too much away so I'm not going to say why. Hang in there—or don't, lol._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Two

Hour Twenty-Three

Part 1.

"Feeling a little shy, Olivia?" Lewis grinned as he waved her over to the bed, her bed, where he was lying, reclined. "Come on over, and I can help you out with it."

Olivia trembled, and even though she was cold, she knew the tremors were not due to the cool air on her skin. He reached out with his gun-less hand and grabbed her bare arm, rubbing it while he said, "Ooh, goosebumps. I can warm you up, Sweetie."

She repressed the urge to tell him he better not call her Sweetie again or she would kick his ass. Now was not the time to piss him off. Instead, she stood waiting for instructions. She would not voluntarily do anything to speed this up—he would have to order her first, and she was sure he intended to do just that. If there was one thing this asshole desired, it was control.

He stood, pulling down her panties as he did. "Your turn. Get on the bed. Lie on your back," he said, keeping the gun pointed straight at her. She watched it out of the corner of her eye while she lay down, hoping he would mess up and point it away, if only for a second, so she could knock it out of his hands. But he was as careful as he was cocky.

She started to debate whether it would be better to risk death than being tortured. Eighteen, nineteen hours. These were an eternity in the hands of someone like Lewis. How long had passed now? She could not see her clock, but it must be only half an hour or so. But she might be rescued any minute, and she wasn't willing to put her life on the line, not just yet.

"That's it, girl. Now let me . . ." The words slipped away as he pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket. "Here, take these, and handcuff yourself to the headboard."

Her stomach fell, but she did as he asked, still scouting for an opportunity to take him out. She pretended to fumble with them, hoping he would step in to do the job himself, making himself vulnerable to an ambush by her fast-moving hands. The D.A. who died at his hands did not have any training in taking down perps. She did.

But he knew that, and he did not make a move toward her until her hand was safely locked up. Then he pulled out another pair of handcuffs. "I found all the toys you own," he said, slapping them on her free hand like a pro. He stretched her arm above her head, and hooked the other end of the handcuffs to the bed post. Now she was helpless, and she really began to worry.

But Cassidy . . . where was he? He had been a few minutes late in the past, but he was on the verge of standing her up, and that wasn't like him.

Lewis slipped out of the room, and Olivia struggled with the handcuffs to see if there was any leeway to slip out her hands. Lewis reappeared, dragging something big on the floor. Olivia strained to see what it was, and her breath quickened when she realized that it was not something, but someone. And now she knew that help might not come, after all, because the body that Lewis leaned against the wall was that of Cassidy.

Part 2.

As soon as Elliot set foot in the squad room, a flashback slammed into his mind—the image of Jenna's body sprawled on the floor, dead from a shot fired from Elliot's gun. He shook his head to clear the image, and then scanned the room for Olivia. But the place was nearly empty, and he looked up at the clock. It was nearly 8 p.m. She was probably home, or out at the bar with Fin, exchanging woeful stories about the troubling case facing them.

He could go to her house. In fact, he thought he might just go on over there. She would be mad at him for not returning his phone calls after he left, but it would be better to get the confrontation over with.

As he was leaving, Fin and a blonde woman, obviously a cop, came out of the elevator. "Stabler," Fin said, his eyes widening. He smiled, to Elliot's surprise. "Never thought I'd be glad to see your ugly mug."

Elliot returned the smile and held out a hand for Fin to heartily shake. "You old dog," said Elliot. See you've got yourself a new partner." His eyes met those of the attractive blonde woman, and Fin introduced her as Amanda Rollins.

"So what are you doing here?" Fin asked. "Come back for your old job? Kinda late in that day for that."

"Nah, I was just looking for Olivia. Thought she'd be here, the way she works."

"She would be," said Fin, "but the Captain sent her home. In case you haven't heard, we had one that got away."

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, man. Tough breaks. Well, maybe I'll see if I can catch her at home."

Fin shook his hands in front of him. "I wouldn't do that, man. Not without calling first. She's seeing Cassidy again."

Elliot lowered his eyebrows. It's not that he expected her to be dateless, but he hadn't prepared himself for the possibility that she was in a relationship. He wasn't sure why that bothered him—it's not like he had been pursuing her or anything.

"Hmm," he said, trying not to look as disappointed as he felt. "Guess I'll check back tomorrow."

"She'll probably be out then, too. Captain told her to take a few days off."

Elliot contemplated the words. "Well, guess I'll call her tomorrow then. Hope it doesn't piss Cassidy off too much."

"Ah, he'll get over it. Don't be a stranger, El."

Elliot smiled at the words, ones he never would have expected to hear from Fin.

Part 3.

"Brian, are you okay?" she asked, but there was no reply. But he began to stir, and she knew he was still alive. "Brian."

He moved his head to the side, beginning to awaken. A nasty goose-egg decorated his forehead. Before he roused completely, Lewis tied his bound hands to the leg of the end table next to him. Then Lewis brought his attention back to Olivia, and sat on the bed next to her. "Like my little surprise?" he whispered.

"Please," said Olivia, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. "Just let him go. It's me you want, not him."

"Yes," he said, his finger brushing aside a strand of her hair that had fallen into her face. "But having him watch what happens next will get to you."

With that, he straddled her and unzipped his pants. "No," she shook her head, determined not to let this happen if there was any chance that she could will it away. "Let's just—I'll give you whatever you want."

"I know you will," he said, forcing her legs apart. She kicked wildly, but he was too high up to take any serious blows. He shoved his way inside her, sparing her any gentleness. He pumped, hard, while holding his hand on her forehead to keep her from turning her head away. She gulped, speech evading her as the shock of what was happening paralyzed her.

"Olivia?" Brian mumbled. She could not see him, but his voice told her that he understood what was going on when he repeated himself, helplessness creeping in. "Olivia. Get off her, you bastard! I'm going to kill you, you mother fucker."

But Lewis kept driving into her, smiling at Cassidy's pleas, exhilarated by Olivia's pain and confusion.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's comments:**__ It's gonna get real bad real quick. You may be able to survive this chapter, but if it bothers you at all, you'll need to stop. You may have nightmares if you don't._

_ Oh, and I have a confession to make. I already wrote eight chapters, working on the ninth. But I'm only going to release one chapter a day. Because, if you're like me, THREE WHOLE MONTHS is just way too long to obsess over what's going to happen to Olivia for real. So I figure if I drag it out, I can occupy your mind with my story for a good, oh, two or three weeks, and that will be less time you have to wait to see what they actually do to poor Olivia. _

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Three

Hour Twenty-Two

Part 1.

Olivia stared up at the ceiling. She tried to tell herself it was just like rough sex—she could handle this. But she couldn't keep tears from sneaking out of the corners of her eyes. And she couldn't help but be repulsed at the smell of him, and the wetness from his lips nipping at her neck.

Brian's objections began to get louder, and this caused Lewis to frown, and then stop his rocking motions. She thought he was going to hit her by the anger in his eyes, but instead, he got up and kicked Brian in the head. "Ow! Ah, God," said Brian.

"Shut up, you annoying prick," said Lewis. Brian looked up at Lewis, who began to relentlessly kick him in the face. Before Brian could protest, Lewis' foot caught him in the nose, and all Olivia could see was gushing blood.

"No!" she screamed, and then Lewis was at her side, slapping her in the face.

"Shut up, or I'm going to gag you. You don't want that, do you?" She shook her head as tears spilled freely down her face now.

She looked away from him and down at Brian. His eyes were still open, but he sat perfectly still. She could tell he was breathing, so he must be in shock, not dead. Yet.

"Same goes for you, Hero," said Lewis to Brian. "No loud noises. Got it?"

Brian did not respond, and he was quiet even when Lewis climbed back on top of her. She hated that she could not stop the tears—it horrified her that she could not keep from satisfying his sick desire to see her suffer.

Apparently he was growing bored with raping her, because he became rougher. He grabbed fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. Then he bit down on one nipple until he drew blood, and then the other. She forced herself not to cry out, but she shivered involuntarily. He stuck himself back inside her and began where he had left off, until he was ready to finish, and then he pulled out and squirted onto her breasts.

"Oh, first one of the night," he said with great elation. "We're only just getting started, Olivia. Are you sorry for what you did?"

She did not answer, angry at his complete domination of her. She would withhold whatever gratification she could from him. But he was not content letting her get away with silence, so he punched her, hard, in the face. Just for sheer enjoyment, he punched her again, this time in the ribs. "Answer me—are you sorry?"

Not wanting to succumb to a punctured lung if he kept using her as a punching bag, she nodded. "Yes," she said weakly. "I'm sorry."

He sat back, staring at her naked body and the damage he had already done. "Not bad," he said. "Now let's take a break and we can continue."

She kept peering past the bed to see if Brian was okay, but he did not move. She was worried about the amount of blood coming from his nose—it looked as if a gaping hole occupied the center of his face where his nose had become disjointed. "Brian, you okay?" she said when Lewis left the room for a minute. But he did not answer, his eyes glazed. She was afraid he might not make it if help didn't come soon.

Part 2.

Lewis came back with a lighter in his hand. He must have seen the terror in her eyes, because he said, "That's right. It's time to get real."

He lit a cigarette, and then held it teasingly between his fingers. But instead of leaning over her with it, he bent down and picked up her skirt off the floor, which had a belt attached to it. He unthreaded the belt, and ran it through his fingers, admiring it. "Bitches like you think you're better than me, because you have a good job," he said, taking his eyes off the belt to glare at her. "But you are just a skanky whore like the rest of them."

Then he brought the belt down hard onto her chest, and the metal dug into her skin as it slammed across her breasts. She grunted, biting back a scream. He whipped her legs with the belt next, saying, "Remember, no sounds, or you get the gag."

She exhaled loudly, but did not cry out. She heard Brian gasp, and then say, "Liv!" His weak voice muttered, "You bastard—I'm going to kill you when I get out of here."

Lewis' head turned slowly, as if possessed, in Brian's direction—the same smile still plastered onto his lips. "Oh, I don't think you will," he said. "Because you're not getting out of here alive."

He began to rummage through Olivia's closet until he found something of interest, and pulled out a baseball bat. "It's so interesting to find out what possessions people have that I can use against them," he said with a gleam in his eye.

He returned to Brian and let loose on his head with the bat, knocking his skull around like it was a ball. Olivia could hear her own voice crying out over and over again, "No . . . No! Brian!"

Lewis turned to her and held up a finger to his lips to shush her. She stopped screaming, but she couldn't hold back the hysterical sobs wracking her body. Lewis lowered the bat to Brian's head one more time, so hard that it made a sickening cracking noise, and she knew he could not have survived it, without even seeing him.

Sobs spilled out of her uncontrollably. Lewis sat next to her on the bed and said, "Did that upset you? I'm sorry. I'm upset too, because now he can't see the worst things I'm going to do to you."

Olivia looked at the clock through bleary eyes. It was only 9:15.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's comments:**__ Look away. Please. I am evil, really I am. You don't want to be exposed to this darkness. And if you do, I'm sorry that you share my affliction. I'm serious, it'll probably be the most horrifying thing you'll ever read._

_ And so, like a bad car crash, you keep looking. I pity your ability to sleep tonight._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Four

Hours Twenty-One through Nineteen

Part 1.

She didn't care anymore what happened next. She felt numb from the neck down—her body ravaged and her lover and friend dead. What could be worse? More pain? It was just more pain. But she could never bring Brian back.

But she misjudged her capacity for pain. He was halfway through his cigarette when he jabbed it into the flesh on her belly. "Mmmgggh," she said, trying to avoid making too much noise for fear he might take away her last freedom.

He waited several minutes and then found a spot on her neck and stuck the lit end into it. She closed her eyes and bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. He repeated the action several times—waiting minutes so she could anticipate the pain, and then shoving the lit butt into another tender spot. Shaking, she tried to block out the worst of it and savor the gaps in between.

He got bored with the cigarettes and the belt-whippings pretty quickly, and moved on to raping her in other areas. He inserted himself into her mouth, and then got on top of her again. She was sore, but she braced herself and shut her eyes. And then she arched her back as he found a different orifice than before.

She was experienced sexually, but she had never had any desire for this kind of sex, and she was a virgin when it came to anal. He wasn't exactly using kid-gloves, and she flailed her feet to push away from him. It took every ounce of energy she had to stay quiet. He rocked her body as he shoved himself into her to a beat of his own making, and she grunted through clenched teeth. She balled her hands into fists as she waited—prayed, even though she was not a religious person—for it to stop.

Part 2.

Exhausted, she tried to dissociate, sending her soul up to the ceiling like she had heard other survivors testify they had done. But she kept coming back to her body, every time the pain became too unbearable to ignore.

Over the next couple of hours, Lewis didn't say much. He took his time, took lots of breaks, and came back with new ways to hurt her. And then, like the scumbag he was, got off on the pain he caused her.

Knowing all the things he had done to other victims was the worst. She knew she had already been through a lot, but there would be worse things to come, and she knew everything he was capable of.

She panted when he went into the other room and came back with a fireplace poker she had forgotten she had, red hot from being heated on the stove. He would brand her with it, no telling where. She would prepare herself, but ultimately, there would be no way to dampen the anguish. She reminded her trembling body that this too would pass.

He brought the poker down to her legs, and she broke her silence in a last-ditch effort to escape what she knew would be an experience that would change her forever. "Wait, wait," she said. She sounded pathetic, but she would do anything right now to stop this.

"What?" he said, cocking his head to the side, gloating over the chance to hear her try to talk her way out of assuredly brutal acts.

"If you stop, I can get you off," she gasped, her voice a tremor. "You know I can. I can have them drop the charges. You won't go to prison for raping Alice, and you won't do any time for what you did to me so far. You'll go free." She whispered desperately, "I promise."

He sat silently for a moment, and looked like he was considering what she had proposed. He scratched his head. And then he picked up her underwear off the floor and shoved them in her mouth. "Mmpphh . . ." she mumbled questioningly.

"I know I said I wouldn't gag you, but you're not going to be able to stop yourself from screaming this time." His eyes met hers. "I'm going to make it so you will never have sex again."

He looked down at the hot poker. "Not because no man would ever want you, but because you won't ever want anyone to touch you again."

With that, he lowered the poker, and a hot searing pain shot through her abdomen as he penetrated her with it.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's comments:**__ It's too late now, you're in for the long haul, obviously. Might as well come along for the ride. It won't be all torture, I promise. This too shall pass. _

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Five

Hours Eighteen through Thirteen

Part 1.

Tears burned her wounded face as metal scorched her from the inside out. Her screams were muffled against the fabric wadded in her mouth. Her cries were not loud enough to be heard through the walls, but they echoed through her own head, nearly blocking out Lewis' taunting laughter.

She almost choked on her own underwear, and instead she swallowed salty drops that had slid down her face and been inhaled when she sucked in her breath. When he pulled the poker out, the ripping of flesh made her head spin, and she panted heavily like she was going through labor.

Trying not to hyperventilate, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, as if that could keep out the darkness of these agonizing moments. But it didn't. Nothing could stop it, and she rocked, dreading his next move.

He sat still for many unbearable minutes, and she mouthed through the gag, "Please please please please . . ."

"Please what?" he asked, pulling the gag from her mouth to hear the answer. "Please stop? Or please kill you so that you don't have to take it anymore?"

"Please stop," she exhaled, wanting to curl up into a ball, but knowing it would hurt too much even if she was able.

"That's good," he said, his eyes bright. "You keep begging like that. I'll consider it, if you keep pleading."

She bit her lip and got quiet. By the flash of anger in his eyes, she could tell that her response fell short of his sadistic need for control. He went into the kitchen again, and came back with the poker red-hot more, shoving the panties in her mouth over her protests. This time he stuck her in the rear with the poker, and she squealed, barely noticing that she was digging her own fingernails into her palms.

Things went blurry after that. Delirious from the sharpness of searing nerve endings, she blacked out. She had no idea where she went, just that she wasn't there in her body, or even in the room. She lost track of time, and as if drugged, events went on that she was barely aware of.

Every once in a while she would come back, and notice that it was still dark. Until it wasn't, and she realized she had made it through an entire night. She thought for a fleeting second that she might still survive this. The question was—did she want to?

Part 2.

When dawn started to creep in, Olivia held onto a small glimmer of hope that the end might come soon, whatever form it would take. She thought she might still want to live, even though the thought of the aftermath was overwhelming.

And then some small bit of irony struck her—she had been an SVU detective for almost fourteen years, and witnessed the aftermath of rape and torture of countless victims. Now, for the first time, she was experiencing it for herself. She guessed she had rolled the dice and finally lost, after winning an obscene amount of times.

The possibility of an end to her suffering was no reassurance to her now though, as Lewis climbed back on top of her. Unbelievably, he tried to rape her once more, even after the extensive damage he had done to her insides. As she blinked back tears and whimpered, half-out of her mind, he shoved as hard as he could, but it was no use—her flesh had melted together. To satisfy his need to get off, he squeezed his hands around her throat and pressed himself against her wounded belly. Her pain was so agonizing that she was relieved when he cut off the oxygen from her lungs, bringing on unconsciousness.

But she woke up to find his hands relaxed so that she could breathe again. For the first time, she started to contemplate her own death. Right now, she yearned for it. But she felt sorry for the people who cared about her who would have to find her body and deal with the grief. She also became saddened at all the thoughts of what she could have done with her life, if only she had realized this would be her last day.

His hands tightened around her throat again, and she passed out once more. He seemed to get a sick sense of pleasure out of choking her until she lost consciousness, because he kept repeating the process. When she woke up, he would smile sweetly at her, ecstatic that he had not actually killed her, and then begin to squeeze her throat once more, until everything went black.

He did this for what seemed like hours. Once, when she awoke, he said, "See, Detective Benson, I do have the power. I have your very life in my hands."

It was hard to talk after the crushing pressure had been applied so often to her throat, but she managed to croak, "You have nothing. You're pathetic, and I pity you." She sneered, realizing by his expression that she had struck a nerve. His face hardened. He choked her again, and this time a sense of bliss washed over her, and she wondered if this was death coming over her.

But she awoke to the harsh contrast of the real world, and he was gone. She kept expecting him to come back at any moment, but she would wait for a long time, and his return would never happen. Meanwhile, she was cold, and in pain, and she could see no way to free herself from the handcuffs.

Hour Twelve

Amanda sipped from her coffee, waiting for it to cool. The station seemed empty this morning—Olivia was off, and Nick was running late. Fin broke the silence though, saying, "Ready to get your mind off that sick bastard and look into this other case? We got a fresh report of a sexual assault on the subway."

"Gladly," she said, and then realized she needed to backtrack from that statement. "Glad to get my mind off Lewis, that is."

But as she sat through the questioning of witnesses on the new case, she found it hard to focus. After the witnesses left, Fin must have noticed, because he said, "Something bothering you?"

"Well, yeah," she said. "Can't we just put a squad car on Lewis or something? I mean, he's still dangerous. Maybe we could catch him before he hurts somebody else."

"Tried that," said Fin, biting into a doughnut. "We lost track of him. Guy's homeless, and he's lying low."

Amanda sighed, and rolled her eyes toward Fin. "What's on your mind?" he asked.

"I can't stop thinking about Olivia. The guy tried to deliberately get under her skin. You think he might become obsessed with her? Try to make her a target?"

Fin shook his head. "You're worried about her, but not about yourself? He seemed to like you pretty well too."

"Yeah, but you walked me home last night."

Fin paused to think for a second, and then said, "So call her."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's comments:**__ I warned y'all. _

_I'm sorry about Cassidy, but he was kind of annoying anyway. Serves him right for playing "Mayhem" on those stupid insurance commercials. I wish they wouldn't play those during the show—it really makes it hard for me to take him seriously. _

_Oh, and there was a question about the title. I know it's confusing right now, and I may have to go back and explain later because it's not the obvious. For now, just know that it's a theme that's repeated in the story. _

_I also choose all my titles based on song titles, in case I ever want to go back and make a fan vid to go with the story (I suck at those, though). This one's based on the song "Twenty-four" by Gem. Love that song. Enough babbling, you want to know what happens to Liv. _

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Six

Hour Eleven

Part 1.

"I can't get ahold of her, Fin. I've been trying to call her for the last hour." Amanda stared at her cell phone, hoping it would ring so she could relax.

"Don't worry, Amanda. She's probably holed up with Cassidy, not wanting to be bothered."

"But she's usually good at checking her messages. Why doesn't she call me back, just to let me know she's okay?"

Munch sauntered past and said, "Remember the good old days when nobody had cell phones? You actually had to wait until people were home to hear back from them. Now everybody expects an instant response." He shook his head. "But I'm with you, Rollins. I think somebody should drive by and check on her, just to be safe."

Amanda sensed a hint of protectiveness in his voice, almost like a father. "Fin, you up for a drive?" she asked. He groaned as he stood to leave.

Part 2.

Elliot had thought all night about what he would say to Olivia. But it all sounded like excuses. She would be pissed at him, and he understood why. He had disappeared, after twelve years of working by her side, much like a husband slipping away and leaving his wife without a word. He hoped she would forgive him, and that they could still have something of a friendship even though they no longer worked together.

He tried to call her, but she wasn't picking up. He thought about just calling back later, but decided to be brave and leave a message. "Hey, Liv," he said to her voicemail, "I know it's been a long time since we've talked, but . . . Well, just, um—call me back when you get this."

He hung up, and kicked himself for sounding so clumsy.

Hour Ten

Part 1.

Amanda hesitated before knocking on Olivia's door. What if she was interrupting a peaceful day off? But then again, Olivia would probably appreciate the junior officer's concern for her safety.

She knocked, and waited, and there was no answer. She looked at Fin, who said, "Must be out. C'mon, I'm sure we'll hear back from her soon."

Some invisible force kept Amanda's feet from wanting to move, but there was not much else she could do, so she started to turn to leave. But she heard a faint noise, barely audible, and it sounded like a woman's voice. "Did you hear that?" she said.

Fin's eyebrows drew together. "Hear what?" he said.

Then she heard it again. Definitely a woman's voice. She couldn't tell if it was Olivia's, or what it was saying, but it was coming from the apartment. "I heard it that time," Fin said.

"Olivia?" Amanda called loudly while knocking on the door again. She tried the knob, and surprisingly, it opened. She looked up at Fin. "It's unlocked, should we go in?"

He looked at her like she was crazy for asking. "Yes—open it."

She nudged the door open and stepped into Olivia's apartment. Immediately she knew something was wrong. There was trash and food and cigarettes scattered all over the living room, and various items spread out in the kitchen. She had never been in Olivia's apartment, but she was pretty sure this was not how Olivia lived. She drew her gun, as did Fin, as if reading her mind.

She moved cautiously toward the main bedroom, and Fin headed off to check the other rooms. She got to the bedroom door when she distinctly heard Olivia's raspy voice say, "Amanda?"

"Olivia?" Amanda stopped at the door, not looking in, still hesitant to invade Olivia's private space. "Are you okay?"

"Please help me," Olivia exhaled, and that was all Amanda needed to hear. She rushed into the room, gun drawn, sweeping the room with her eyes for any signs of invaders. When she finally got her bearings and started to take in the whole scene, she gasped—Olivia naked on the bed, her hands spread out and handcuffed above her head, ligature marks cutting into her neck, burns and cuts scattered over her body.

"Olivia, is he still here?" she whispered. Olivia shook her head no, and Amanda called out while scurrying to the bed, "Fin, she's in here! It's not good . . ."

A phone rang from somewhere in the other room while Amanda scanned the room for something to cover Olivia's naked body. She found a blanket and laid it over her battered friend, choking back tears as her eyes met Olivia's. She tried to stay calm, for Olivia's sake. "We're here now, we're going to take care of you, just hang on," she said, fumbling for her handcuff keys.

"He killed Cassidy," Olivia sputtered through her tears.

Amanda followed Olivia's gaze to the huddled mass on the floor, and recoiled.

She freed Olivia's hands just as Fin entered the room. "Oh my God," Fin said, covering his mouth, first looking at Olivia, and then at Cassidy's body. "Hold on, Liv, I'm going to get a bus down here." He pulled out his phone and started dialing. Then he knelt down next to Cassidy and felt for a pulse, even though there was no question that he was dead.

Amanda sat down on the bed next to Olivia, and their eyes met again—Olivia's tortured and begging, Amanda's trying to show compassion without betraying her horror. Where to start? She reached a hand gingerly to Olivia's head and gently stroked her hair. "I'm so sorry, Olivia."

Olivia's face scrunched up, and she gasped back tears. "I'm cold," she whispered. And it was true—her body was shivering wildly, even with the blanket enfolding her.

"It's shock," was all Amanda could think to say. "How bad are you hurt—anything serious?"

Olivia took a deep breath and said, "I don't know, there may be internal damage." She reached out and grabbed Amanda's hand and squeezed tightly as she said, "He . . . he shoved hot pokers . . ." Tears choked off the rest of her sentence, and Amanda could no longer hold it together either as tears flooded her cheeks.

She shook her head and whispered, "Oh my God, Olivia. I'm so sorry. I was afraid something like this might happen—I should have checked on you earlier."

Olivia closed her eyes and bit her lip, but did not answer. Amanda knew it was because she was exhausted, and not because she blamed anyone else. Olivia's hand trembled in Amanda's, and she stayed by her side and stroked her tousled hair until the ambulance arrived.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's comments:**__ Okay, deep breaths, the worst is over for now. Time for some good ole' L&O investigative work. Hang on, though, because there are some sweet moments coming soon. Oh, and I've been working out the ending in my head, and you'll want to stay tuned, because it's going to be freakin' awesome. Won't be for a while though, still have to build it up in the middle._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Seven

Hour Nine

Part 1.

Amanda cringed as Olivia cried out when the paramedics transferred her to a gurney. She had been on this job for two years, but she had yet to see someone so brutalized, and even worse, someone so close to her. Amanda rode with Olivia in the ambulance, holding her hand the entire way. Olivia tossed her head from side to side, and begged the paramedics for something to kill the pain. Amanda took pity on her and slipped her two of her own pain pills when the first responders weren't looking. And then she listened while Olivia told her every detail of her ordeal.

"Don't worry, Olivia," she said. "We're going to get this guy." But she could tell the words were of little comfort to Olivia, who continued to plead with her eyes for relief, until Amanda had to look away.

At the hospital, they were met by Melinda Warner, Fin, and Captain Cragen. Melinda went with Olivia as she was wheeled into the ER, and Amanda stayed to talk to Fin and Cragen. "Hey, she gonna be okay?" asked Fin.

Amanda shook her head and said, "I don't know," but she had to fight back tears.

Fin saw that she was having trouble keeping herself together and pulled her into his chest for a hug. With the gesture, Amanda could no longer hold back the torrent of tears, and she buried her face into Fin's chest and let them run freely onto his shirt.

Cragen waited for her to gather herself, and put a hand on her back, saying, "You think you can handle collecting evidence from her? Warner said they're probably going to put her under for a while so they can examine her."

Amanda nodded, even though she would much prefer going back to the station and figuring out how to catch the dirtbag who had managed to take down such a graceful soul.

Part 2.

Elliot had given up on Olivia calling her back. It was after 10 a.m., and he had called her several times and left a message for her. Maybe he had misjudged how mad she really was at him. At any rate, he wasn't going to interfere with her personal life and just show up at her door, so he would have to wait and see if she would ever be willing to talk to him again.

At 10:30, he got a phone call from Fin, and it was the last thing he expected to hear. Liv was in the hospital, brutally raped by the perp who had bucked the system, and there was no way he could go see her right now. Not only that, but Cassidy had been killed by the sadistic torturer in front of Liv. The whole thing made Elliot feel like vomiting, and then he felt like tearing apart his house. He put his head in his hands, despairing over what had happened, and over the fact that there was nothing he could do for her.

But he realized there was something he could do. The rapist had escaped, and he had the skills to find the man who did this to his former partner.

Hour Eight

Part 1.

Amanda looked around at the downtrodden eyes of the officers around her—Fin, Munch, and Captain Cragen. She knew they all felt as guilty as she did for letting this happen. Nick came in, avoiding eye contact with anyone else. "I just got done at her apartment," he said, shaking his head. "Very much like Alice's apartment, only there was the fireplace poker . . ." He stared into the distance, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's hard enough seeing that when the victim's a stranger. But when it's your partner . . ." He shook his head again.

Cragen patted him on the shoulder. His addressed the group, and his tone came off angry. "What do we know, people? First of all, why did Lewis only hold Olivia for twelve hours, when he's always gone longer than that in the past?"

Amanda jumped in first. "I think he's getting nervous. He knows we're all over him now, and he wanted to do his thing, get back at Olivia, and maybe skip town."

"Good start," said the Captain. "Let's check Liv's finances. Lewis has no money, he'd have to steal from her to get out of the state, or possibly the country. If he used a credit card, or withdrew too much money from her checking account, there'd be a record."

"I'm on it, Captain," said Munch.

"What I can't figure out," said Nick, eyes hollow, "is why he would leave a live witness at this stage."

"Well, now," said Amanda, "he did try to strangle her several times at the end." Nick visibly recoiled.

Amanda continued. "It could be that he tried and thought he succeeded." Her voice softened. "But what I think—and I hate to say this—but I think he was just toying with her when he strangled her, trying to terrorize her in any way he could. I think he wanted to leave her alive, because he hated her so much that he wanted her to live with the aftermath of what he did to her."

Her eyes, still sore from crying, met Nick's for a moment, and she did not like the darkness she saw in his.

"Why did he leave the door unlocked?" asked Fin.

"For the same reason," said Amanda. "He didn't want her die. Maybe he figured if he left it unlocked somebody would come in and check on her before she passed away."

Cragen sighed. "Well, look, we have got to find him. As brazen as this guy is, he had to have left some leads. We _cannot _let him get away—not this time. Let's stay on top of the game this time, people."

With that, he strode to his office, and Amanda followed him. "Captain," she said, "Everything okay?"

He turned to face her, nostrils flaring. "You're asking me this, after what he did to Olivia?"

"Captain, you know it's not your fault, right?"

He sighed and looked away. "This makes twice in a row that I failed to protect someone I cared about, and this time it's Liv. If we don't find this guy . . ."

"Captain, I doubt there was anything that could have been done. He got into her apartment somehow—"

He looked directly into her eyes now. "Which reminds me—you need to be careful."

"I will, Captain."

"No, I mean it—have Fin or somebody come into your apartment and clear it before you settle in at night. I don't need another casualty on my watch."

"Yes, Sir," she said quietly.

Part 2.

It felt like a family reunion when Elliot stepped into the squad room. Munch, Fin, and Cragen circled him and welcomed him back like the prodigal son. Fin introduced him to Olivia's new partner, Nick, and he couldn't help but like the guy. Reminded him of a younger version of himself.

Cragen's face got serious pretty quick. "So I guess you're here because you heard about Olivia?"

Elliot rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, Captain. I'm sick about it." His eyes pierced the Captain's. "But what I really want to do is come back."

Cragen started fidgeting at the suggestion, and Elliot quickly jumped in. "I'll do whatever you want, Captain. I'm even willing to take that psychological exam—"

Cragen's eyes became stern. "You're retired now, El."

"I know that. But people come back from retirement all the time."

"Elliot, are you just doing this to find Olivia's rapist? Because if you are—"

"Look," said Elliot, "I can't lie. That is what motivated me at first. But I'm not going anywhere, Captain, even after this is all over. I realize now that I do miss this job, and I've had lots of time to work through the things that were bothering me." Seeing the look of doubt on Cragen's face, he said, "Look, just let me take the psych eval, and if it says I'm not well-adjusted, I'll go away."

Cragen paused to think, and then said, "Okay, I'll at least let you do that."

"Great," said Elliot. "When's the soonest I can do it?"


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's comments:**__ This one's making me cry. The sweetness of the reunion…_

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Eight

Hour Six

Part 1.

Elliot took a battery of tests for the next few hours, and then sat down and interviewed with the only psychiatrist he would ever be caught talking to—George Huang. Even though Elliot didn't like being psychologically analyzed, he felt comfortable talking to George, after all the years they had spent working with one another.

Early in the afternoon, word got around the station that Olivia was waking up, but Warner wanted her to rest, and everybody else was working the case. Elliot wanted nothing more than to help search for Lewis, but until his psych exam came back okay, nobody would share any information with him.

He decided to go against Warner's wishes and take a trip to the hospital. Sitting around with nothing to do was giving him too much time to think, which turned his anger into rage, and he needed to change momentum before somebody got hurt with a fist to the eye.

Olivia had been moved into the ICU. Warner was outside her room, and stopped Elliot before he went in. "Hey, Stabler, long time no see." He smiled, but she put out a hand to stop him from going past her. "Where do you think you're going?"

Elliot shifted his feet. "Where do _you_ think I'm going?"

"Elliot, she's in bad shape, and needs rest—"

"Look," he interrupted, "There's nothing else I can do for her, just let me at least try to be here for her."

Melinda sighed. "Stubborn bastard. At the very least, I need to prepare you. You need to know what she's up against."

Elliot's voice softened. "Which is . . . what? I know she was raped. I know he burned her and beat her and choked her and killed Cassidy in front of her."

"Did you know he shoved a red-hot poker inside her?" Elliot pursed his lips. This was the first time he had heard this detail. "Elliot, I just want you to be ready for her state of mind, is all."

For the first time, Elliot thought about whether she might not make it, and the thought scared him. "Is she going to be okay?"

"She has internal injuries. They are extensive, but her major organs are okay so I don't think they are life-threatening. She could always get an infection, though . . . But it's bad enough that we had to do surgery to give her body an alternative way to eliminate—there's no way she's going to the bathroom any time soon. It's temporary, but it could take weeks for her to heal up. Months, even." Her voice softened as she shook her head. "The worst part of it all, Elliot, is that I don't know if she'll ever be able to have sex again."

Elliot stood tall and bit his bottom lip, but inside, he felt a darkness clenching at his heart. Of all the people he knew, Olivia deserved this least. He closed his eyes for a second, thinking about the implications of everything he had heard. "Let me go make sure she is up for a visit from you," said Warner.

He tried to chase out the "if only" thoughts from his head. Would this have happened if he had still been working with her? He would have never let her go home alone, he knew that. But he also knew it didn't do her any good for him to drive himself crazy with such thoughts. He was here now, and hopefully she would allow him to visit.

Warner appeared at the door and smiled. "She'll see you, Elliot."

Part 2.

As he entered the room, Elliot kicked himself for waiting so long to contact her. This was _not_ how he wanted to see her for the first time in two years. She was flat on her back, and hooked up to an IV and all kinds of monitors, but she managed to produce a weak smile for his benefit.

"Hey, Olivia," he said, unsure of how to start. He came to the side of the bed, and to his surprise, she held out a hand for him to take, and he wasn't about to refuse. He took her frail fingers in his hand, and an urge overtook him, causing him to raise her hand to his lips to kiss it. Her lips turned down as the gesture started to break down her brave front. "Oh, don't cry," he said. "You'll get me going."

"El," she said tenderly, and he knew now that she wasn't going to hold a grudge.

He pulled up a chair and sat down to face her, nestling her hand in his once more. He started to speak, but she cut in before he could say anything. "Don't say you're sorry. Please."

"What?" he said, furrowing his brow.

Her words slurred from the grogginess of the drugs, but he could understand her perfectly. "I don't want any more apologies. This is nobody's fault—except for one person."

He forced a smile. "Well, actually, I was going to apologize. But for something else." He shook his head and looked down in shame. "I'm sorry I didn't call you after I left." His eyes met hers. "And I'm sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth. I was planning on contacting you anyway, before I heard."

She smiled again, and he admired her for the fact that she could after what she had been through. "I know this is a stupid question," he said, "but how are you holding up?"

Her eyebrows lowered and she grimaced. "I, um . . . not real good." She nodded, apparently unable or unwilling to find words to describe her state of mind. But that was how she was—she didn't like to show her vulnerable side, and there was nothing that caused more vulnerability than the experience she had just gone through. But when he looked in her eyes, he could see torment hidden within them.

They sat in awkward silence for a minute—him not wanting to force her to talk about uncomfortable subjects, and she not willing to share how she was feeling. Then he perked up, remembering. "I have good news." She tilted her head toward him. "I may be getting my old job back."

She brightened when he said it, and relief washed over him. He was afraid she might not want him to come back now. "That's great, El." But her eyes turned down in the corners, and he knew what she must be thinking—even if he came back, she might never return. The chances of them ever becoming partners again was slim.

He wanted to go on about how he could now work on catching Lewis, but he thought she might not want to hear about that right now. He took a deep breath, and then said, "I know it's not my fault, but still, I'm sorry about Cassidy. He was a good guy."

He saw something flash in her expression when he said it—anger, maybe? "Thanks," she said tightly. "I appreciate that."

They both fell silent again, and he sat with her hand in his, casting glances at her face to see if she wanted to talk. He worried that she was mad at him for something, but he couldn't figure out why. She had plenty of reasons to be, but he couldn't guess which particular one was causing her the most distress. He guessed he should stop being paranoid and just accept the fact that she had been through a traumatic experience, and it made sense that she had no words for him just now.

He glanced at her again, and her eyes were shut. "Liv," he said gently, but she did not respond. He knew it was time to let her sleep, so he got up. But before leaving, he bent down and kissed her forehead and caressed her hair with his hand. The sight of her lying so helpless in the bed pulled at his heartstrings, and he realized how much he had missed her.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's comments:**__ Spoiler alert—Undercover. I'm sure you've all seen it by now, if you're this much of a fan._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Nine

Hour One

Part 1.

When Olivia woke up, the light was beginning to fade from her room, and she was alone. Something about that fact unnerved her, although she knew there was a uniformed officer just outside the door. Standard procedure, when there was a psychopath on the loose who had just assaulted an officer.

But she couldn't see him, and that bothered her. She buzzed for the nurse. It took several minutes, and in that time, Olivia's eyes began to dart around the room, following movements imagined and real.

She hated Lewis for making her this way. She knew the hyper vigilance would stick with her for a long time, and make it hard for her to have a normal life. Other after-effects would alter her life as well, but she had no desire to focus on them.

The nurse came in, but Olivia didn't really need anything—just another person in the room. "Is there still an officer outside the door?" she asked the nurse.

"Yes, he's still there," said the nurse. Once she realized it was a false alarm, she plumped up Olivia's pillow and left, just a couple of minutes after she arrived.

Olivia flipped through a few TV channels, and then turned it off. Her thoughts inevitably returned to her condition, no matter how hard she tried not to obsess. She hated that she could not move without pain, and every time she thought about her future, she wished he had just gone ahead and finished her off. The only thing that kept her from sinking into a deep depression was her anger toward the asshole who did this, and thinking about how she would like him to pay for what he did.

There was only one thing she could do in the long run to make herself feel better about the destruction of her life. She picked up the phone and called Elliot, determined to make it happen.

Part 2.

Elliot had stopped by the station, and the Captain gave him the good news that he had passed the psych evaluation. He could start tomorrow, but he was allowed to sit in on a briefing on the search for Lewis. "Guy did get ahold of Olivia's checkbook, because he tried to cash a check for ten thousand dollars," Munch said.

"Wow," said Fin, "Olivia's got that much cash? What's she doing on the side?"

"It's called saving your money, numbskull. You should try it." Munch brought his attention back to the other detectives. "Fortunately, the bank recognized that the signature was forged, and refused to cash it. They did call the police, but by the time they arrived, he was gone. Bank should get metal to be the first one ever to actually do the right thing for their client."

"Did they get a fingerprint?" asked the Captain.

"Didn't get that far," said Munch. "He's like a rat, always gets away with the cheese without setting off the trap."

Amanda jumped in, setting down a stack of bank records. "He has made an ATM withdrawal with her card, though. We're still not sure how he found out her PIN. But the most he can withdraw is three-hundred a day, which is exactly how much he took out."

Nick said, "But we can trace where he made the withdrawal, right?"

"Of course," said Amanda, pointing to the map. "This ATM on the lower East side. But that's a pretty large area to canvas, and he could be anywhere by now."

"Can we find out as soon as there's a hit on her account?" asked Nick.

"It takes about a half-hour or so. We can be on alert tomorrow, which is the soonest he'll be able to withdraw cash again," said Amanda.

"In the meantime, he has enough that he could just take off and leave town," said Elliot. "Have we gotten any hits on her credit cards?"

"Nope," said Fin. "I think he's smarter than that. But we'll keep an eye out for that too."

"I don't like this," said Elliot. "He could leave the city at any time, and we'd have no way of knowing."

"I don't like it any more than you, Elliot, but all we can do is the usual," said Cragen. "We already put out an APB on him, now we have to wait. Unless you guys can put your heads together and think of any more ideas."

The room fell silent. Elliot decided he was going to go flash the guy's picture around the neighborhood where Lewis had withdrawn money. He knew he wasn't officially on duty—he didn't get his gun and badge back until tomorrow. But he couldn't just sit by and do nothing.

He had just gotten in the car when the phone rang. "Stabler," he said.

"Elliot?" His heart raced when he realized it was Olivia.

"Hey, what's going on?" he said, his tone soft.

"Hey, El, do you think you could come back here?"

He grimaced, wanting to say no so he could try to find Lewis. But she needed his support, and he couldn't turn her down right now.

"Sure, I'll be there soon."

Zero Hour

When Elliot got to Olivia's room, she was asleep again. The strangle marks around her neck were visible, and he closed his eyes and tried to block out disturbing images of Lewis choking her. Once the visions were gone, he stared at her for another minute or so, thinking about how fragile she looked. Then he felt guilty for staring, and he gently touched her arm to wake her.

She bolted awake, eyes wide open, disoriented for a few seconds until she realized it was Elliot standing next to her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said.

He sat next to her and examined her uneasy face, watching as the lines in her forehead began to relax. "Elliot," she said, "Thanks for coming."

"No problem," he said, half-smiling.

He waited for her to speak, but she seemed hesitant. Finally, she broke the silence by saying, "I, uh . . . I just wanted to have someone here, you know?" She got busy examining her hands. "Lewis . . . he has a way of getting into places you wouldn't expect, you know?"

Elliot nodded slightly, understanding what she was getting at. If the man could get into her apartment, why not a hospital room? "Is that what this is about? Liv, you know there's a uniformed officer outside your door twenty-four seven, right?"

She shot a glance up at him. "I know. But I have a hard time trusting just anyone to be on the lookout."

He took her hand in his. "Liv, I will stay here as long as you want me to, until Melinda kicks me out."

She smiled. "Thanks, El."

They chit-chatted about things unrelated to Lewis and her ordeal, like the newer officers at SVU, and Cragen's harrowing experience last year. But their conversation kept stalling, because she seemed to get distracted every time.

She fell silent again, and then sighed. "El?"

"Yeah?" he said, leaning forward, sensing that she was working up the courage to talk about sensitive topics.

"Remember back when I took the undercover assignment at the women's prison?"

"Yeah," he said. How could he forget? He worried like a teenager's parent the entire time, and then something did happen, but she never would talk to him about it.

"Well, I never told you this, but that prison guard came very close to raping me." Elliot sighed as he wondered why she was bringing this up now. "He didn't, but it was too close for comfort."

He sat silently, allowing her to continue. "After that happened," she said, "I suffered from PTSD. I know you know that I went to counseling over it. What I didn't tell you, though, was that I had flashbacks while I was on the job. I almost shot a guy because of one. For months, my hands shook, and I was on the lookout for danger everywhere. I had nightmares so vivid. . ."

This whole time, she had refused to meet his gaze, preferring to stare down at her hand in his. Now she looked up at him, and it seemed like she wanted to emphasize what she said next. He stared at her intently. "This time was a hundred times worse," she said. He jutted his chin involuntarily, betraying his discomfort. "What Lewis did to me. . ." She shook her head. "Well, let's just say, I know I'm never gonna be able to get over it."

"Liv—" Elliot started to say.

"No, just let me finish, El." He wanted to tell her that she would make it through, that he would do whatever he could to help her, that she may never get over it but she would get to the point where she could live again. All the standard things he would say to a rape victim. But somehow all of those things sounded false and contrived at this moment, so he shut up and let her finish speaking. "I'm never going to be the same again—I know that."

He shook his head, wanting badly to reassure her. "Right now, I feel like I don't even want to be alive." He squeezed her hand and tried to fight a tear rising to the surface. She continued. "But there is one thing I want, one thing that would give me the slightest bit of satisfaction, and you know what that is. Go get this bastard, El. Get him for me. Make sure he never rapes anyone else. I'm not going to ask you to commit murder, I don't want you to go to jail, but . . ."

He squeezed her hand again and interrupted. "You have my word, Liv. I will do whatever it takes, no matter what the consequences. I swear to you."

He searched her eyes, and within the despair contained in them, he saw a glint of something else. Rage, perhaps. Or just the slightest bit of hope that Elliot could make her attacker pay.

"You realize," he said, smiling now, "that I'm going to have to leave your side to make that happen."

She smiled back, and then her face turned serious again. "Just go get him, El."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's comments: **__Don't worry, I'm not going to add a ménage scene later with Benson, Stabler, and Rollins, although this chapter was getting some ideas going on in my head, lol… Just the typical wo-mance between friends._

_ Oh, and I just love Munch, can you tell?_

_ If you just want some exciting E/O moments, skip to the end._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Ten

Day One

Part 1.

Elliot stayed next to Olivia all night, but his mind was on the search for Lewis. He left her while she was asleep, and went straight to the precinct without stopping at home to freshen up. Cragen partnered him with Olivia's "new" partner, Nick Amaro.

On the way to canvas the neighborhood where Lewis had made his ATM withdrawal, Nick said, "So how's she doing?"

Elliot didn't know how close of a relationship Nick had with Olivia, so he tried to keep from revealing too much of her private life. "Well, you know," he said. "As well as can be expected, I guess."

Nick paused for a minute, and then said, "She's going to make it, right?"

Elliot turned onto the street where the ATM was located, and said, "I think so." He hesitated, wondering how much to share, and then said, "Mentally, emotionally, I'm not so sure."

Nick rubbed his jaw, and Elliot could tell that the progress report upset him, even though he seemed good at hiding it.

Together they showed a picture of Lewis to as many people in the neighborhood as they could, but nobody remembered seeing him.

Part 2.

When Olivia woke up in the morning, Elliot was gone, and she was alone. She tended to be an independent person. It was easier to avoid being hurt that way.

But being alone now put knots in her stomach. She found this reliance on others to be puzzling. Her mind flashed back to the last time she was left alone. Handcuffed to her own bed, waiting through one agonizing minute after another for Lewis to come back, wondering whether he was going to burn her with a cigarette this time, or whip her with a belt, or worse. Her current discomfort made sense, given the context.

She fought the urge to call someone. And then she heard Amanda's voice in the hallway, talking to the officer outside the door. They had not seen each other since Amanda discovered her, and Olivia began to perk up at the thought of seeing her again.

Amanda peeked around the corner to see if she was asleep, and then smiled widely as Olivia beamed at her. "Hey," Amanda said, "Is this a good time for a visit?"

"Yeah," Olivia whispered while nodding.

Amanda pulled up a chair, and tried to hide her darting eyes. Olivia knew she was checking out the "damage" while trying to be discreet about it. "You look . . . better," Amanda said softly.

Olivia took Amanda's hand in hers, and noticed how the soft, thin fingers contrasted with the tense power in Elliot's, although she was sure Amanda's could be just as lethal in a fight. "Thanks. Amanda . . ."

Rollins shot her a look of compassion that Olivia recognized as the "victim look"—one that the female officer reserved for those who had endured horrific deeds. But this one had more impact, because she and Amanda were more than just strangers. "Yeah, Liv?" she murmured.

"Thank you." Rollins blinked back tears. "I mean it," said Olivia. "Of all the ways this could have turned out . . ." She couldn't finish the words, so she sucked her lips between her teeth and promised herself she would hold it together for now.

Amanda was having trouble exercising the same restraint, ultimately losing the battle to her emotions and brushing tears away from her face. She nodded and gulped, saying, "No problem."

Amanda and Olivia sat with each other for a while, wordlessly bonding the same way as survivors of a cataclysmic event. Ultimately Amanda stood, and although Olivia didn't want her to go, she understood that there were more important tasks to be done.

After Amanda left, Olivia felt a little less lonely, a little more protected. She thought she could handle the day ahead until Elliot returned. Just when she started getting used to the idea of spending the rest of the day napping, Munch and Fin stopped by together. Both had downtrodden eyes, but Olivia said, smirking, "Hey, where's the funeral?"

Munch said, "Hey, haven't you heard, you're not allowed to joke right now?"

"Wow," she said, trying to sound less tired than she felt. "I didn't realize I was going to get a visit from everybody today."

"Well, we just missed you so much," said Fin, trying to keep a strong grin on his face.

"Yeah, and besides that," said Munch, "you got two partners out there ordering everybody to come see you. I tried to tell them you didn't need a bunch of babysitters, but more irrational minds prevailed."

"Thanks, John, I appreciate the concern."

They visited for a while, carefully walking a tightrope between neutral and unpleasant topics. As they were leaving, Munch said, "Just stay away from the hospital food. I hear it's all genetically modified garbage fed to you for the sole purpose of maintaining repeat business."

Olivia chuckled, even though it hurt to do so. "Thanks, you guys, for stopping by."

Warner came by next, but for more practical than sentimental reasons. "It's time for treatment, Olivia," she said.

But Olivia was beyond exhaustion, and she said, "Sounds fun, but I'll pass."

Melinda did not crack a smile. "Olivia, we have to do this, every single day, if you want to recover."

"Fine," she said, tight-lipped. "Let's get it over with."

Part 3.

After hours of canvassing the neighborhood, Cragen called Elliot and told him Lewis had made another withdrawal, this time from an ATM in New Jersey. Elliot sighed. "Don't we have _any _other leads, Captain? This is ridiculous."

"He's good, Stabler. Otherwise he'd be locked up by now."

Elliot shoved the phone in his pocket and turned to Nick. "We can keep this up, but it's probably pointless. Guy's in Jersey."

Nick said, "Why don't we just call it a day, Stabler. It's already seven. I haven't seen Olivia yet, how 'bout we pay her a visit?"

Elliot nodded. After driving in silence for a few minutes, Nick said, "She was your partner for what—like twelve years?"

"Yeah."

"So . . . did she ever open up to you?"

"About what?"

Nick squirmed in his seat. "Well, like . . . you know . . . how she's feeling?"

Elliot stayed serious, but he was smiling on the inside. "Mmmm . . . sometimes. She can be pretty private though."

Nick nodded. "Yeah," he said, "I get that."

Part 4.

At the hospital, a uniformed officer stood guard, but it was Warner who stopped them from going in. "She's had a rough couple of hours," she said. "She had to have bandages changed, and it's a painful process, so I sedated her pretty heavily. She's conscious, but pretty out of it. She told me she wanted to see you two though, if you came by. I tried to talk her out of it, but she's about as stubborn as you, Stabler."

Elliot opened his eyes wide. "So we can go in?"

Warner shook her head. "Against my advice, but yeah."

Elliot tentatively peeked into her room to see her lying on her back, her eyes half-closed and staring at the TV. He stepped into the room, and Nick followed close behind. She perked up when she saw them, saying with heavily slurred words, "Hey, guys, come on in. Come join the party."

Nick half-smiled and glanced at Elliot. "Hey, Liv," said Elliot, in a somber tone mismatched to hers.

"Hi," said Nick, sheepishly.

"Nick, it's good to see you," she said, her voice cheery. It was obvious to Elliot that she was heavily intoxicated on a cocktail of potent drugs. "I see you've met my ex-partner—Elliot. So, you guys been getting to know each other?" A hint of sarcasm tinged her voice.

Nick nodded, looking bewildered.

"Yeah," Olivia said, a little too loudly. "Elliot's a loyal partner, until he gets tired of you, and then he just takes off."

Nick shuffled his feet and looked away. "Liv," said Elliot.

She smirked and continued on, her words running together. "And then he just walks out of your life after twelve years, without so much as a goodbye."

Elliot clenched his jaw and said, as gently as he could, "Maybe this is not the best time to talk about this."

"Sure." She nodded, her lips tight. "Go ahead and go. Avoid the hard stuff and pull away. Just like you, El."

Elliot sucked air in through his teeth. Torn between defending himself and getting angry, he reminded himself that she was not in her right mind. "Look, Liv—"

"No, you look, _Elliot_" she said, her eyes intense. "I was left with nothing after you left. I turned to Brian, and even though he wasn't the best, he was _there _for me—unlike you. And now he's . . ." She clamped her lips together.

Elliot nodded curtly and sucked his lips in between his teeth. Even though she was saying things she normally wouldn't, he knew this was how she really felt. "Is that what this is about?" he said softly, carefully weeding any signs of anger out of his voice.

Her forehead wrinkled, and she said, "Just go."

"Liv," he said.

Nick took a step toward him, hand extended, and said, "Maybe you should—"

Elliot smacked Nick's hand away, but said, "I know, I'm going."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's comments: **__Thank you to everyone still following, and thanks for comments! I have written up to Chapter 15 so far, but I may have to slow down soon [cough, never!]. I am having serious back issues, and there's a chance I might have to have surgery soon. I am having some of the same symptoms as Olivia, so I guess the story karma has hit me, lol._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Eleven

Elliot waited in the hallway for Nick, having driven to the hospital together. He wanted to punch something, but didn't want to get kicked out of the hospital altogether, after being thrown out of her room. He heard them talking but not what they were saying, and then Nick came out, looking humble. "Hey," he said, "I'm sure she didn't mean it. She's probably just overwhelmed."

"Oh, she meant it," said Elliot, rubbing the back of his neck. "She just didn't mean to say it, especially in this state of mind."

Day Two

Part 1.

Sleep came to Elliot in bits and pieces. With less than two hours of it under his belt, he gave up and went back to the station. He wasn't the only one there too early—most of the team was already present, looking at leads and searching records in an unlikely attempt to find Lewis.

Cragen gathered everyone together and said, "He's jumped the state line into Jersey. No longer our jurisdiction, but we're not giving up yet, folks. Munch and Amaro, locate every homeless shelter and halfway house in the vicinity of the ATM where Lewis cashed out. I'll call the authorities in Jersey and see how willing they are to let us in on their territory."

"Captain," said Elliot, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "Isn't there any other way to track this guy down?"

"Like what?" said Cragen.

"Well, like did he take anything out of Olivia's apartment? Are we sure there's nothing else stolen besides her wallet and checkbook?"

Cragen stared him down. "How can we know that, Elliot? She hasn't been able to go back to her apartment."

Elliot fell silent. He was right—only she would be able to identify missing items, and she was in no shape to make that trip right now.

Nick's phone made a buzzing noise. He picked it up and looked at it, his eyebrows lowering, and then threw it onto the desk like it was a hot potato. He looked up at all the faces staring at him, and shook his head.

"What is it?" asked Fin.

"I think somebody else needs to take a look, and see if that is what I think it is," said Nick.

Elliot picked up the phone off the desk. It was a text from an unnamed number, with a picture attached. He had to rotate the picture and squint before it occurred to him what he was looking at. When he finally comprehended it, he shoved the phone away and said, "Ah, God."

Nick put his hand to his face and said quietly, "Pictures of Olivia, apparently taken just after he was done with her."

Fin groaned, and Amanda rolled her head back. Cragen sighed, and then said, "Alright, let's use this against him."

"You know we're not going to be able to get a trace on that phone, Captain," Munch said. Then he mumbled under his breath, "I bet if we had the NSA's resources we could track him down. Too bad we don't have CIA connections."

Cragen said, "I know it's probably a disposable phone. He's too smart to get caught that way. But we have to at least try."

Elliot stood, and began to pace. He glanced around for a convenient target to punch, even knowing he wouldn't do it in front of witnesses. And then Amanda was at his side, standing closer than for casual conversation. "Elliot," she said softly.

"Yeah," he said, forcing himself to focus on what she had to say instead of the image he had just seen.

"Hey, I know it's none of my business, but I heard about how things didn't go so well last night."

He rolled his eyes at her. "So I guess gossip gets around quickly in this office." He added, "Not much has changed.

"No, not really," she said. "But me and Amaro are friends, and he was worried about Olivia and needed a sounding board."

"Great."

"I think you should go talk to her."

"Well, like you said, it's really none of your business."

He glanced at her to see irritation creeping into her eyes. "Wow, you really are as bull-headed as they say you are," she said. When he refused to respond to her, she said, "Olivia was out of her head when she said those things. She really cares about you. She's told me as much, in her own way. I think it would really mean a lot to her right now—"

"Look," Elliot said. "I appreciate the concern, but she really doesn't want to see me." With that, he stood and walked away.

Part 2.

But Elliot knew Amanda was right. He couldn't abandon Olivia in her time of greatest need, even if she claimed she didn't want him around. He decided to try and arrange a visit, and see if she would agree to meet him. He called Warner first, not wanting to surprise Olivia with an unannounced visit. To his surprise, Warner reported that she had agreed to see him.

His surprise grew into astonishment when he entered her room. She looked weak, her face pale and her head glued to the pillow, but she brandished a huge smile when she saw him. "Are you—are you on some pretty heavy medication?" he said, unable to keep a smile from creeping onto his face.

"No, just the usual," she said, her voice cracking. "Morphine, that's all."

"That's all," he said, suppressing a chuckle.

He pulled up a chair next to her and sat down, leaning forward after realizing she really wasn't going to bite his head off, after all. "About what you said last night," he started, his smile fading away.

"What did I say last night?" she said, and for a minute he thought she was joking. "I don't even remember . . . did you come by?"

He sighed and leaned back. Clenching his jaw, he said, "You said some things." He shook his head. "It's not important right now."

"What did I say . . ." Her voice started off weakly, and trailed off. Her eyes slowly closed.

Elliot leaned forward. "Olivia, are you okay?" he asked.

She didn't respond, and he began to get concerned, but remembered that she had been exhausted lately. He picked up her hand and patted it. "Olivia?" he said.

A beeping monitor made him flinch, and he turned his head just in time to see several flashing lights and buzzing noises all going off at once. He sprung out of his seat and dashed into the hallway. "I need help in here—she needs help!" he said in the direction of the nearest nurse.


	12. Chapter 12

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twelve

Nurses ran into Olivia's room and swarmed her bed. "BP's too low," said one.

A doctor soon followed. "Watch her heart rate. Bag her."

An endless beep sounded out, and a nurse said, "No pulse."

Elliot put his head on his forehead and watched helplessly. Somebody grabbed his arm and pulled him forcefully away from her. He turned to see Warner's hand on his arm. "You need to get out of here, Stabler. Let them do their job."

He strode out of the room and buried his face in his hands. "This isn't happening," he whispered to himself.

The sound of defibrillator paddles firing echoed into the hallway. He opened his eyes to see Warner approaching him again. "Please tell me she's alive," he said, his voice shaking.

"Her heart's beating again. They're working to stabilize her."

Elliot let out his breath. Heat rising to his face, he said, "Where were you?"

Warner's eyebrows came together. "What do you mean?"

He leaned into her a little too close, but she stood her ground. "I thought you were keeping an eye on her. How did she go down so quickly?"

"Elliot," she said, her eyes intense, "all burn victims are unstable at first. There's so many things that can go wrong—fluid loss, infections, plus it's really hard to keep the proper nutrient balance—"

"I don't care." He was yelling now. "You should have been watching her. You're the expert."

She pursed her lips. "How dare you. I've spent the majority of my time at this hospital, making sure she got the proper treatment, despite the fact that I don't even work here. I have a full-time job, Elliot, and it does not involve watching one person twenty-four hours a day." Elliot puckered his lips, but his head dropped. She continued, "Now, I care about Olivia too, and you have _no idea _how much energy and time I've put into making sure she gets better."

Elliot looked at the floor. "I'm sorry, Melinda. I'm just—" He shook his head.

"It's fine, El. Now let me get back to her. I'll keep you updated, I promise."

Day Three

Part 1.

The night was touch and go. Doctors worked to keep her blood pressure up, and finally they stabilized her in the early morning hours. Warner came out to the waiting area and said to Elliot, "She didn't have an infection. It was a matter of getting the electrolytes in her system balanced. She's okay now, but still unconscious." Elliot tilted his head back and sighed. She put a hand on his shoulder and said, "You should go home and get some sleep, Elliot. You look like you could use it."

He knew he needed it. But he didn't want to leave, in case she took a downturn again. He wouldn't be able to live with the fact that he missed a chance to see her one last time if anything happened. "Can I just go sit with her?" he said.

Warner sighed, looking close to exasperation but too tired to fight with him. "You just have to go against all the rules, don't you?"

But she didn't say no, and he took that as acquiescence, standing to go into her room. In her bed, she lay motionless, the color gone from her face, her hair disheveled. She had an oxygen mask on, which Elliot avoided with his hand when he tentatively touched her cheek.

The heaviness of stress pulled on him as if gravity had increased. He pulled a chair next to the bed and leaned forward, laying his head next to hers on the bed and resting a hand on her arm. There, he let sleep overtake him.

Part 2.

The buzzing of Elliot's phone woke him. He sat straight up and looked at the number, then dashed out of the room to answer when he saw it was Cragen. "What's up?" he said into the phone.

"I've got good news and bad news," said Cragen. "Bad news is we were right about the phone that Lewis sent the text from—it's a disposable."

"And the good news?"

"We got a hit on Lewis's picture from a pawn shop in Jersey City. The shop owner reported to police that a man fitting his description came in trying to pawn a gold necklace. When he tried to question the man about where the necklace came from, he got suspicious, and the suspect ran out before he could call the police. After seeing Lewis's picture, he's sure it's him."

"That's the good news? He still walks."

"Yeah, but Munch and Amaro are on their way down to check out the neighborhood. There's a couple of homeless shelters in the area."

Elliot wasn't a bit relieved. "If he's as smart as he seems to be, he's probably moved on by now."

"Still," said Cragen, "it's something. And Elliot—"

"Huh?"

"The necklace is on its way back up here as we speak. If Olivia wakes up—"

"You want me to ask her if it's hers." Cragen stayed silent. Elliot's voice softened. "I don't know if she's going to be able to today, Captain."

"That bad, huh? Do I need to come down there?"

"Might be a good idea, just in case. I'm coming in though. I feel like I can do her more good looking for her attacker."

Part 3.

When Olivia awoke, she couldn't tell if she had slept for a day or a year. The clouds in her head kept her from thinking clearly, but Melinda came within a few minutes to help orient her. Melinda put a hand on her arm and said, "Olivia, you've been out for about a day now, and there were a few rocky hours in there, but you're going to be fine now."

Olivia struggled for words. "I don't remember anything. A couple of minutes talking to Elliot, but—"

"Yeah, he was here all night, sleeping next to you."

Olivia was too tired to smile. She was too tired for much of anything, but she asked, "Did they get Lewis?"

Melinda didn't answer, but Olivia could tell by her expression that they hadn't. "Knock, knock," said a familiar voice.

"Captain?" she asked weakly.

He stepped into the room then, looking at her like a concerned father. Her heart thawed at the sight of him. "I've been meaning to stop by," he said, "but you've been resting. As you should."

At her request, Cragen updated her on the search for Lewis, telling her he was somewhere in New Jersey and that they were following some leads. Then he paused. "Olivia," he said. "I have something to show you."

He pulled out a plastic evidence bag with something shiny inside. He handed it to her. "This was turned in to us by a pawn shop owner in New Jersey. Do you recognize it?"

She put a hand to her mouth and nodded. Coldness crept into her chest, and spread out through the rest of her body. "It's my necklace. It was my mother's."

She stared at the trinket for a few seconds, her insides hollow. Then she thrust the thing back towards Cragen and stared straight ahead. "I don't want to ever see it again," she said.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Author's comments: **_

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Thirteen

Days Four through Seven

Part 1.

The first two days after Olivia nearly died, Elliot was at her side frequently, but she did not have much to say to him. She appreciated his presence, but it she was too tired to talk much. Gradually, her energy began to return, and she was able to stay awake for longer periods of time.

She began to notice that she was rarely alone. It seemed someone she knew was with her most of the time, and she knew that it was a deliberate, coordinated effort, even though nobody would admit it to her. She found the generosity of her co-workers touching. Without them, she would have a hard time making it through the day. She only wished that their kind gestures were enough to wipe away the darkness from deep within her.

When Olivia regained her strength, Amanda came in with a bag. "I brought some stuff to wash your hair," she said. "Melinda told me I could help you with it, since it's still too hard to shower."

"Thanks, Amanda, that means a lot to me," she said. "It's the one part of me that I haven't been able to get clean yet."

After she leaned her head back into the warm water from the sink, Amanda ran her hands through Olivia's hair, massaging the sudsy shampoo into it. For a few minutes, Olivia forgot about the harsh world of her existence and got lost in the tingles from Amanda's gentle touch.

"Thank you," Olivia said when they were done. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

Amanda sat with her as she let her hair air dry. "Is there anything I can bring you from your apartment?" Amanda asked.

Olivia shook her head. "You know, right now I don't even want to think about my apartment. I feel like everything in it is tainted."

Amanda's eyes began to moisten. With obvious hesitation, she ventured, "How's the pain? Any better?"

Olivia's lips tightened. "It's hard to describe. Every day, I have to sit in a special tub to have the dressings on my burns changed, and at the same time, they remove the dead skin." Amanda hid a gulp. Olivia shifted in the bed, and then winced. "I'm under heavy drugs whenever they do it, but still . . . yeah, it's pretty painful."

Amanda shook her head, but acted as if the words didn't phase her, saying, "I know it's nothing compared to what you're going through, but when I first got shot, not a minute went by that I wasn't in pain. It still hurts, but . . . I guess what I'm trying to say is, it gets better."

Olivia wished she could hug her blonde companion for the compassion she had the courage to share. She could see why Amanda was the perfect fit for this job. She would make a great replacement.

Part 2.

Amaro and Munch had just returned from Jersey after pursuing dozens of useless leads and questioning the dregs of the world. "He didn't stay at any of the homeless shelters in the area," Amaro said.

"All we caught were some fleas," said Munch.

"I think I found the reason he went to Jersey," said Elliot. "Turns out, it's where his attorney lives."

"Has anyone checked her house for Lewis?" asked Fin.

"Yeah, some uni's stopped by there, and no sign of him," said Elliot.

"Still, she could be hiding him," said Fin.

"I know, which is why I asked the Jersey City police to park a detail outside her home 24-hours to keep an eye out for anyone coming or going," said the Captain, walking in on the conversation.

"Captain, why can't we—"

"It's their territory. We have to let them do their jobs, like it or not," said Cragen.

Elliot sighed heavily, but kept his mouth shut. Still, he kept thinking it should be his unit picking up Lewis, not some Jersey cops who had no interest in the perp.

Amanda came in on the tail end of the conversation. "I just got back from the hospital," she said. "Looks like Olivia might be sent home soon. Are we sure this guy's still in Jersey?"

"Nobody's sure of anything right now," huffed Elliot. "We get to sit around with our dicks in our hands, waiting for someone else do our jobs."

Cragen shot him a dirty look and said, "If we had done our jobs to begin with—"

Everybody looked away except Elliot. "Ah c'mon, Captain, that's not fair."

There was a silence as the two of them glared at each other, and then Amanda said, "I think we need to figure out how to best protect Olivia when she gets out." Elliot and Cragen looked at her now. "I mean, she can't go back to her own apartment. I don't think she has any desire to go back there anyway."

The wheels in Elliot's head started turning. "She can come stay at my place," said Elliot. "With a protective detail, she'd be safe there."

"I was thinking my place," said Amanda, staring at him. "Me being a woman and all."

Elliot shook his head. "No way," he said, "you're just as much of a target as she is."

Cragen cut in. "We can put her in a safe house."

"Yeah, and who's going to be there to take care of her?" said Elliot, folding his arms.

"I've got a novel idea," said Munch. "Why not ask Olivia where Olivia wants to stay."

Elliot kept quiet. He knew he couldn't argue with that, but he still wanted her to go to his apartment, where he could keep an eye on her. He knew she would never agree to it if Rollins tried to convince her otherwise, so after everybody started to drift off to do their respective jobs, he pulled her aside. "Look, you and I want the same thing. Lewis doesn't know about me, he wouldn't think to look there. Besides, my apartment building is one of the safest in Manhattan. I moved into it because of the level of security."

Fin overheard what he said and shot him a look. "What?" said Elliot. "I was at SVU for over twelve years. I know what people in this place are capable of."

"Who's going to be there for her when you're gone?" said Amanda. "You're out working her case all day every day."

"We can set up a protective detail, just like anyplace she would stay. And maybe all of us could take turns swinging by to see her throughout the day, to help her feel safe."

Amanda looked away, obviously thinking about it, and then her gaze fell squarely on Elliot again. "Okay," she said. "I'll let you talk to her about it."


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's comments: **_

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Fourteen

Day Eight

Part 1.

Olivia was able to sit up again, and then it was time to take her first steps, every one sending pain like a searing knife through her core. She knew that it wouldn't be long before they kicked her out of the hospital, not that she wanted to stay, but there was no way she would go home from here. The place brimmed with reminders of the brutality she lived through. She was not surprised, then, when Elliot approached her with a proposal.

"No way, Elliot," she said, shaking her head. "I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. Really."

A sense of urgency crept into Elliot's voice. "But where are you going to stay? Surely, you're not going back—"

"To my place?" Her voice softened with melancholy. "No, I'm not. But there are hotels—"

"You can't stay in a hotel." Elliot stood and began to pace, probably trying to think of a rational reason why such an arrangement was out of the question. "At my place, I know you'll be fine."

She lifted her chin. "I don't need to be taken care of like a child, Elliot. I'm not an invalid."

"Liv . . ." Apparently unable to think of a way to convince her, he said, "Please. For my sake. It would ease my mind. Security's tight in my building. I think you would feel safer too."

"Elliot, do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into? It's going to require bringing me back daily for treatment—"

"I've raised five kids. I think I can handle it."

He stared at her, unflinching. She sighed. "You're not giving up, are you?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"In that case, I call dibs on your bed."

He smiled. "You got it."

Part 2.

Elliot stood and watched while she struggled to get out of the car. Her frame had withered over the past days from not eating enough, so that she looked like a waif. She stopped when she got up, staring up at the apartment building at the daunting task ahead of her. She used a cane to take the first few steps, and grimaced. He held onto her other arm, and she finally relented and put an arm around his shoulders to use him for support.

They made it to the elevator, but he could tell by the way she was wincing that it wasn't easy for her. "Almost there," he said, as the elevator came to a stop on his floor.

His apartment was halfway down the hall, and he watched as she took two more excruciating steps, and then decided he couldn't sit idly by anymore.

"Look out," he said, and leaned down to put an arm behind her legs. Then, in one quick move, he swept her up into his arms.

"Ow," she said, but she was laughing, a sound he had not heard for far too long. He grinned and strained, and when he carried her over the threshold he said, "Sorry I couldn't afford a better honeymoon."

As night fell, Elliot left her alone, trying to give her as much privacy as possible. She was content to hole up in his room with a book. Around 9, he knocked on the door. When she didn't answer, he popped his head in to find her asleep, the book lying where it had slipped out of her hand. He snuck to the side of the bed and covered her up, and then turned off the light before padding out.

In the middle of the night, he shot straight up from a dead sleep, awoken by the sound of a shriek. He rushed into her room and fumbled around to turn on the lamp, only to find her with her eyes still closed, clutching a pillow in her fist, crying out, "No, please . . . please . . . don't . . ."

She tossed and turned under the covers as he sat down on the bed next to her. "Olivia," he said, trying to wake her.

But her face contorted and she started to back away from him, saying, "No no no no . . .", shaking her head at an imaginary foe.

He grabbed her arm and shook her, saying, "Liv, wake up, it's me."

Her eyes snapped open as she sat straight up, and she looked around wildly until her surroundings began to register in her mind. Her eyes met his, and she panted and said, "El."

He put his hand on her back, and she sank her head into his shoulder and began to cry in uncontrollable fits. "It's okay, I'm here," he said, caressing her back.

He held her that way until the sobs subsided into mere tears, and her breathing slowed down. He rested his hand on the back of her head, holding it there until she pulled away from him. Looking down, she said, "It was just a dream. I'm okay."

He looked down too, at her hands, and held them in his. Noticing the tremors in them, he said, "Sure you're okay?"

She nodded, but eyed the rest of the room with suspicion. "I . . . I'm fine El," she said, but she did not let go of his hands.

He searched her face for some sign of what she wanted from him. All he could see was terror in her eyes, but he knew she would never admit that she wanted his protection. He started to get up, and said, "You gonna be alright?"

She nodded, but she clung to his hand still, her mouth turned down in a frown as if she was fighting back tears. He helped her ease back into a lying position, and pulled the covers up to tuck her in. As he was about to turn away, she grabbed his hand again and whispered, as if she didn't want anyone to hear her desperation, "Don't leave."

His eyes met hers, and understanding passed between them. He went around to the other side of the bed and climbed in, curling up behind her and placing his arm over her to protect her from imaginary dream forces. Eventually, her body stopped trembling, and her breathing slowed until he knew she was asleep. He breathed in the flowery fragrance of her hair and closed his eyes, hoping there would come a day when she didn't need this, yet dreading the day when she no longer did.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Author's comments: **__Ooh ooh ooh, so excited for the ending. Just a little longer…can't rush it though._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Fifteen

Day Nine

Part 1.

Olivia startled when she awoke, alarmed by the body pressing against her from behind. She wriggled frantically away from the man, until she remembered that it was Elliot, who had held her in the night after a nightmare frightened her. At the same time that she began to calm, Elliot's voice said to her from behind, "Hey, it's okay. It's just me."

She breathed out a sigh of relief. "You scared me," she said. "I forgot."

"It's okay," he said, rubbing her arm and then scooting quickly out of bed as if embarrassed to be there.

She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, wishing he would stay put but not wanting to ask. Her desires confused her. On the one hand, there was a time when she wanted him to be more than a partner. She recalled lonely evenings after work, when he went home to a house full of love, and she went home to an empty apartment. That part of her yearned for more of his touch.

Another part of her couldn't accept any love right now. The hollowed out depression where her heart once lived had frozen when she'd witnessed her lover's head cracked like an eggshell by the wicked hands of a sadist. Over the years, she had battled evil and lived through it with generous helpings of love, and evil had finally prevailed in the tug-of-war for her soul.

She blinked back tears. "You okay?" said Elliot, back in the room after slipping into the restroom to change clothes. When she didn't answer, he stopped straightening his tie and said, "Olivia?"

She forced a smile and opened her eyes. "Yeah, El. Go get him for me, kay?"

He nodded curtly and said, "I will."

Leaning his head down to her level, he kissed her on the side of the head and said, "I promise."

Part 2.

She watched through drenched lashes as water poured down her skin and swirled before disappearing into the drain. It was the first time she had taken a shower since the unthinkable had happened. Ordinarily, the massaging drops beating onto her back would send tingles through her body, calming her. But she was unable to enjoy it, having blocked out all physical sensations, good and bad.

Someone buzzed the door. Throwing on pajamas and a robe as fast as her injured body could manage, she asked, "Who is it?"

"Amanda," came the familiar voice on the other end. "Is this a good time?"

Olivia buzzed her in, and said, "I know what you guys are up to."

Amanda smiled humbly and walked past her with a duffle bag in her hands. Dropping the bag on the sofa and turning to face Olivia, she said, "What would that be?"

"I have a protective detail already—you don't have to keep checking on me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Amanda said, grinning. "I just came by to bring you some things."

Olivia's mouth fell open. "What things," she said, cocking her head to the side.

"I hope you don't mind," Amanda said, unzipping the bag. "I thought you might want some of your clothes, so I went by your place."

She looked up at Olivia, and when she saw no signs of anger on her face, began to pull items out of the bag. "A few changes of clothes, pajamas, your toothbrush, your phone . . ."

Olivia covered her mouth, and then put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "Thank you, Amanda. You really know how to take care of a person."

Amanda shook her head. "No big deal. I'm used to taking care of people. My sister . . ." She let the words trail off.

"Still," Olivia said, and put her arms around Amanda in a solid embrace. When she pulled away, Amanda's eyes were wide, as if she couldn't imagine someone being grateful for her actions.

"Have a seat?" Olivia said, waving toward a chair.

Amanda waited for her to hobble to the couch and sit, and then said haltingly, "Olivia . . . Nick, um." She looked Olivia straight in the eyes and said, "Nick's worried about you."

Olivia nodded, tight-lipped, and Amanda said, "I mean, besides the obvious . . . he says when he comes to visit, you barely talk to him." She looked down at her hands, shifting in her seat, and said, "I mean, I tried to tell him it was normal for someone who's been through—"

Still nodding, Olivia looked at the ground and said, "For someone who's been through what I've been through." She looked away and said, "It's nothing personal."

"I tried to tell him that," Amanda said swiftly.

Olivia stayed silent, trying to sort through all the thoughts inundating her mind. How could she get across the message she needed to without giving away too much?

She covered her mouth and nose with her hands, and then pulled them away, saying, "I . . . don't want to get too close." Staring at an invisible spot on the wall, she said, almost robotically, "First, I lost Elliot. Then, I lost Brian. Add to that the pain that has been inflicted on me . . ."

Amanda's gaze never let off Olivia's face. "You're afraid of being hurt again—"

Olivia's eyes snapped up to meet Amanda's. "I'm afraid maybe I don't deserve to get close to anyone."

Their eyes locked for several seconds, and then Amanda said, "Then why are you letting me in?"

Olivia smirked. "Good point. Maybe you should go now."

Confusion engulfed Amanda's face, possibly trying to figure out whether Olivia was serious or not, and then her phone rang.

Answering it, she said, "Rollins." Her eyes widened, and she said, "Okay, I'll tell her."

Olivia squinted questioningly at Amanda, who said, "They got Lewis."


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's comments: **__Ah, yes. The interrogation scene. Yes. Sorry about the mix-up last night. When I heard about my little mistake, I was in a place with no internet access, so I rushed down to McDonalds' to get free wi-fi so I could fix it. Yes, I am __**that **__dedicated._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Sixteen

Captain Cragen called everyone together to fill them in on the details. Excited mumbles created a cacophony so that he had to raise his voice. "Jersey City police apprehended Lewis as he tried to leave his public defender's house. He must have known they were sitting on it, because he tried to escape out the back. Fortunately, the cops were smart enough to notice, and they nabbed him." His voice was lower now. "Unfortunately, he had already raped, tortured, and killed his public defender."

The room got quiet. Fin broke the silence by saying, "Captain, what does this mean as far as extradition and all?"

Elliot stood as still as he could manage under the circumstances, trying not to twitch. "That's why I've called in Barba," said Cragen.

As if on cue, ADA Barba strode into the room, saying, "Don't worry, we're going to make sure this isn't a cluster fuck like the last time. I'll have to make an appearance to argue for extradition, but I've already spoken to the ADA in Jersey, and he's agreed to let us have Lewis, right after his arraignment in Jersey City."

"In any event," said Cragen, "we need someone to go down there ASAP to question Lewis, before he tries to work his magic again. Let's make it stick this time."

"I'll go—" said Elliot.

"I'll go—" said Nick, almost in unison.

Cragen shot a look at Nick, and then Elliot, and said, "Amaro will go, with Munch."

"Captain, I—" said Elliot.

"Stabler, I know you're chomping at the bit. But you're too close to this—"

"And Amaro's not? He's her partner."

Cragen stared Elliot down, but he could tell the captain was on the brink of caving. "Look," said Cragen, "I want a clean confession. If you can even get one. No hotshot cowboy moves, or you're off this case for good."

Elliot held back a smile. "Yes, Sir."

Day Ten

Part 1.

As Elliot got dressed in his hotel room in the morning, he thought back to the night before. He had expected Olivia to be glad about Lewis' arrest, or at least relieved, but she looked disappointed instead, almost angry. She barely said two words to him all evening as he got ready to leave. On his way out the door, he had hugged her tightly, and she had whispered in his ear, "Go get the bastard."

Time seemed to slow as he stepped into the interrogation room and got his first look at the monster who had terrorized one of the most important people in his life. Every muscle taut, he stood leaning against the wall, arms folded, as he let Nick have the first go. Let the asshole wonder about him.

The man smiled widely at Nick and said, "Hey hey! Good to see you again, Detective Amaro."

Nick did not smile back. A clock ticked in the background. Nick stood, hands on hips, and then leaned forward and put his hands on the table. "You think this is fun, don't you?" he said. "Think you're playing games with us, and winning, eh?"

"Now, Nick—" said Lewis.

"Detective Amaro," said Nick.

"Seems like you're taking things awfully personal," Lewis said, eyeing Elliot now as if it was the first time he'd noticed another cop in the room.

Elliot stood solid like a tree. Nick stood again and said, "So, I guess you're gonna deny what you did to Detective Benson, even though we have your DNA, your fingerprints all over the murder weapon and your . . . torture implements, and Detective Benson's testimony? You want to tell us how all that doesn't add up to your ass in jail for the rest of your life?"

Lewis stared down at the burnt tips of his fingers and said, "I heard about the unfortunate trauma that happened to Detective Benson."

"Oh yeah?" said Nick. "And where did you hear that?"

"My public defender," said Lewis, looking up and through Nick as if the detective was not there. "She must know people."

"You mean the same public defender you just finished murdering?" said Nick.

Lewis grinned widely. "You give me too much credit, Detective Amaro. Anyway, you don't want to talk about some boring attorney, do you?" He glanced at Elliot and then back at Nick, and said, "I heard your partner suffered pretty bad. I heard she was tortured so bad that she will never be with a man again."

Elliot forced himself to remain glued to the wall. He didn't want this lowlife to see him lose his cool. Nick, on the other hand, leaned forward into Lewis' face and said through clenched teeth, "Listen you scumbag—" Then he stopped himself and regained his composure. "How would you know that detail? It was never released."

Undaunted by Nick's aggressiveness, Lewis said, "I don't know, I just heard things, is all."

Nick tilted his head to the side and said, "Well, that's okay. We got you dead to rights with your DNA everywhere, and the lab's been _real _careful not to taint anything this time."

"Well then, you just go ahead and try me," said Lewis. "By the way, I also heard about the pictures you got on your phone. How'd you like those?"

Elliot could see the veins popping out of Nick's head, and decided now would be a good time to intervene. "Hey, Nick," he said in a friendly voice, "I'd like to have a few words with Mr. Lewis here."

He shot a look at Nick, and Nick acquiesced with his eyes, and understanding passed between them. Elliot sat across the table from Lewis. Nick backed off and stood directly behind Elliot, blocking the view of anyone who might be watching. "So, William," said Elliot, "Mind if I call you Billy?"

"Who are you?" said Lewis. "I don't think I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance."

"I'm Detective Stabler, I'm with SVU, too," said Elliot, cocking his head to the side. "Could I just get a look at your burned fingertips?"

Lewis stared at him, his eyes questioning. "Sure, I guess."

He put his hand, palm-up, on top of the table. Elliot reached forward and held the hand gently, and then flipped it over. He slammed his right hand down on Lewis' hand and simultaneously grabbed the man's pinky with his other hand, bending it backward as far as it would go without snapping.

"Aaah . . ." said Lewis.

Elliot had leapt to his feet and was now leaning over Lewis, and he whispered through clenched teeth, "Let's not make a sound, huh? Otherwise, you may end up dead at the bottom of the Hudson River after _escaping_, if you know what I mean."

Lewis nodded his understanding. Elliot held the finger back at an alarming angle and continued, saying, "Now what details can you give me about Detective Benson's assault?"

"Rrrrggg," said Lewis, in obvious pain. "I think I want my attorney now."

The words enraged Elliot, and in one fell swoop he knocked the table out of the way and wrapped his hands around Lewis' neck, hefting him up and out of his seat until his body slammed against the back wall. Elliot's fury ran into his fingers, which tightened around Lewis' neck, and he shouted, "Is this how you did it, asshole?" into Lewis' face. The man's eyes widened as he struggled to breathe.

Nick was standing right behind Elliot now, and although the younger man had been yelling at him, Elliot finally heard the words, "Stop, man, just stop!"

Elliot clutched at Lewis' throat for a few more seconds, hoping the worm would pass out. Reality hitting him, he released both hands at once, and Lewis scrambled away, gagging. The door opened behind them. "Police brutality," croaked Lewis.

Elliot froze and stared blankly at the wall where Lewis had stood. A Jersey City officer yanked on his arm until he left the room, casting one more glare in Lewis' direction.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Author's comments: **__Ask and ye shall receive, lol…_

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Seventeen

Outside the interrogation room, Elliot could feel all eyes on him as he paced while rubbing the back of his neck. "What were you thinking, El?" said the officer who put a stop to his questioning of Lewis. "I could get in serious trouble for letting you do that. You promised me no tune-ups—"

Elliot stopped and met his gaze. "I'm sorry, Ter," said Elliot. "I wasn't gonna hurt him. I just wanted to terrorize him, the way he terrorized my partner."

"Wait—you two know each other?" said Nick.

"Yeah," said Elliot, his attention on Nick now. "I didn't introduce you two, did I? This is Terrill Jackson—we were at the academy together. Used to be on the force in Manhattan. He moved back to Jersey a few years ago."

"Hey, man," Terrill said, acknowledging Nick, and then turning back to address Elliot. "Well, I can cover for you, say you didn't touch the guy, but you know he's gonna seek medical treatment to document his wounds."

"What wounds?" Elliot said, throwing his hands up. "The most he can show them is a red mark around his throat. And with all the times he's called foul, we can say he created that himself to get off the hook again."

"Well, I didn't see anything," said Nick. Elliot nodded at him, relieved that Nick was not willing to cross the thin blue line.

"Neither did I," said Terrill. "Just don't ever pull this crap on me again, man."

Day Eleven

Part 1.

The captain was waiting for them back at the station, arms folded. "Ah, man, I wouldn't wanna be you right now," said Fin, "the way the captain's eyeing you like yesterday's lunch meat."

Elliot took a deep breath and stepped into Cragen's office, Nick close behind. "I don't know what kind of shit you pulled yesterday," said Cragen, and Elliot thought he could see steam coming out of the captain's nostrils, "but Lewis is filing a police harassment complaint."

Elliot rolled his eyes. "Typical. That's his M.O., isn't it? Stall as long as possible using every tactic available."

But Cragen remained unconvinced. "Elliot, I thought I told you to keep it clean."

Elliot shrugged and said, "I did. Amaro was right there with me."

Nick jumped in. "Captain, I didn't see him do anything wrong."

"Oh, cut the crap. The Jersey cop who witnessed the interrogation is covering for you too, Elliot, but so help me," Cragen said, pointing a finger in Elliot's face, "if I find out you so much as gave him a noogie, your ass is mine."

Elliot smiled defiantly and said, "Yes, Captain."

Part 2.

Olivia had been asleep when Elliot came home last night, so he was relieved to find her now waiting at the kitchen table with Chinese take-out. "Hey, El," she said, half-smiling. "You're lucky I didn't eat all this without you."

He smiled back, but he secretly doubted she would have done as she said. She barely ate lately, usually taking a few bites before declaring she was full. Her skinny frame betrayed her lack of appetite. "So, you at all relieved that he's behind bars?" he said, sitting down next to her and digging into the noodles.

"Yeah," she whispered, but she wasn't convincing. "I just don't have a lot of faith he'll stay there."

"Well, your testimony combined with the DNA is sure to put him away for life," said Elliot.

"Yeah," she said again. She took a bite of fried rice and said, "Sometimes, I just wish . . ."

"Wish what?" said Elliot.

She shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "I just wish I didn't have to testify, but I know it's necessary."

But he could tell there was more bothering her than she was letting on. "Yeah, and maybe after you do," he said quietly, "you can start to move on with your life."

She pushed the containers of food away from her and sat up straight, mumbling, "Yeah, like that's ever gonna happen."

"What?" he said, trying to catch her eye.

But she refused to look at him. She sighed. "I've been in this business too long, El. The downside working this job is that I've seen what the victims go through. I know that even in a simple rape—"

"A simple rape?" Elliot said. "Now there's categories of rapes?"

"You know what I mean, El," she said, her hands between her knees. "It takes years to get over it, and that's even without being brutalized or tortured." She trailed off softly, "Or witnessing someone you love being pummeled to death . . ."

She set her hands on the table and examined them. He reached a hand out and set it on top of one of hers. "Liv, you also know that people do recover. It takes time, but you can have a normal life again—"

She pulled her hand away and stood facing away from him. "Ah, c'mon El, you and I both know I'm damaged goods now."

Elliot felt tears teasing the corners of his eyes at the statement. He wanted so bad to convince her that she was perfect, damage and all, that she had a grace about her that nobody could take from her—a quality that men would do anything to have.

'_Okay, maybe not all men,'_ he caught himself thinking. There were men out there who would see her as damaged, unable to get past the physical limitations she presented. Maybe what he meant was that at least _one _man would do anything to have her.

That was when he decided he _would _d_o _anything for her. Whatever it took to help her become happy again, that was what he vowed to do. He was trying to think of a way to tell her that without pushing her away when his phone rang.

"Stabler," he said, answering it.

"Stabler, you better get down here," said Fin from the other end. "Lewis escaped."

Elliot hung up and looked at Olivia, who was staring out the window. "Who was it?" she said.

Not knowing how to tell her, he decided the best way was just to be honest about. "Lewis got away," he said.

Her head snapped to the side and she looked at him over her shoulder. She didn't say a word, but he would've sworn he saw a smirk pass over her lips, if only for a moment.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Author's comments: **__Going to start accelerating a little here. Time for some action._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Eighteen

"What the hell happened?" said Elliot as he stormed into the station.

"Guy's some kind of freakin' Houdini," said Fin, and all eyes turned toward him for an explanation. "He was being transferred to New York for his arraignment, and he took advantage of our complimentary medical exams for newly arrested perps. Told the medics he had asthma, and that the stress he endured from your underhanded interrogation tactics caused him to have a flare-up. Said he couldn't breathe."

"Must have been convincing, too," said Amanda. "They took him to Bellevue, and the minute the uni's took their eyes off him, he clocked a nurse and escaped into a crowd of people."

"Catching this guy is like trying to catch a greased pig," said Munch.

"Ah, for Christ's sake," said Elliot.

"I'm not too happy about it either," said Cragen, who had just entered the room. "I want a full protective detail on Olivia restored, and let's get down to Bellevue and see if we can't get some hint of where he went."

Days Twelve through Fifteen

Part 1.

While Elliot spent the next few days pounding the pavement looking for Olivia's nemesis, Olivia spent hours on end trying to avoid obsessing over the attack and its aftermath. Her wounds were healing, and she no longer had to make daily trips to the hospital for treatments. But while the physical pain transformed from sharp and throbbing to dull and aching, the agony of her thoughts escalated into unbearable repetitions of the acts themselves. Immobilized by lack of motivation, her daydreams alternated between horrific memories of the past and fantasies of what she wanted to happen to Lewis in the future.

Much of the time, nothing but emptiness occupied her soul. She yearned for visits from friends and co-workers and anyone who may be able to absorb some of the negativity she exuded, up to and including the pizza guy. She despised her own needy self, though, and refused to call anyone to keep her company. Although it was difficult to walk without a cane, she refused to use one, and preferred to limp along at a snail's pace.

Three days after Lewis' escape, Amanda stopped by on one of her visits, which had become almost daily, despite Olivia's protests. She brought gifts meant to keep Olivia busy—books and DVD's, and even an I-pad pre-loaded with music and games.

Olivia sighed, looking at the magazines in Amanda's hand this time. "You must really think I'm bored," she said as Amanda passed her in the doorway and settled into Elliot's overstuffed leather chair.

"You mean you aren't?" said Amanda.

"Extremely," said Olivia.

"So, I've been thinking," said Amanda, rubbing her hands in between her knees. "CSU cleared your apartment, so I thought maybe I could go by your apartment and get some more things out for you—assuming you're not going back soon?"

Amanda examined Olivia's face questioningly. Olivia shook her head and said, "No, probably not." She put her hands together, fingers apart. "You know, Amanda, thanks for that. There are some clothes and things I need. But . . . there are some things I don't want any more, and I was thinking I might give them to you."

Olivia kept looking down at her hands, but she could feel Amanda staring at her. "What things?" said Amanda.

"Um . . . like I have a lot of jewelry that I probably won't ever wear again. I even have some gold chains, and there's a diamond ring, and one with real rubies—"

"Wait, wait," said Amanda, waving her hand. "Why are you giving these to me, Olivia? Why don't you just keep them, in case you want them later?"

Olivia put a hand to her mouth and said, "I just, I can't explain it . . . things in that place feel tainted to me."

"Liv," Amanda said. She waited for Olivia to look her in the eye, and said, "Are you feeling okay?"

Olivia kept her eyes fixed on Amanda and said, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be fine."

Part 2.

Olivia stepped out of her thousandth shower of the week. It seemed like she couldn't shower enough. As she was drying off, she noticed her phone, sitting on the dresser, was lit up. She picked it up and looked at it. She had a text message.

Holding her breath, she pushed the button. It was from an unknown number, and it read, "I had so much fun at ur apartment. Let's do it again, shall we?"

Her heart pounded in her ears and blood rushed into her cheeks, but she whispered, "Gotcha."

It was hard to push the buttons as much as her fingers trembled, but she took her time and wrote, "U got it. Come get me."

She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing as she waited for his response. After what seemed like an hour, the reply came. "Now, now, u still think I'm that stupid? I thought u lrned from last time. No way I'm coming to ur old partner's place. Like I'm going to fall for that trap. Lol."

"U name the time and place," she replied.

She got dressed in her pajamas while she waited for a reply, but none ever came. She checked her phone one more time right before she heard keys clicking in the door. Holding her breath again, she waited, eyes wide, and then breathed out a sigh when Elliot opened the door.

He took one look at her and said, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "Any progress today?"

"Nah," said Elliot. "It's like he disappeared. I'm sure we'll find some new leads though. Don't worry."

"I'm not," she said. "I'm really tired, I think I'm going to head off to bed."

"Kay," he said. "I don't blame you. It's late. I'm going to hit the hay soon too."

She dropped wearily into bed, and waited for sleep to overtake her. The blackness of the room sunk even deeper into black, but as her eyes adjusted, she could see shapes in the darkness. Her head jolted toward a corner of the room as she saw one of the shapes move. But when she stared at it directly, it stood immobile, and she knew her eyes must be playing tricks on her. Then, with her eyes fixed on it, it moved again.

Slowly, the shape unfurled in the darkness to the height of a man, and crept its way toward her. Her head went numb, and the chills spread down into her chest and out to her arms, where hairs stood at attention. The shape moved closer.

She sat straight up and yelled, "Elliot! Help!"

She did not hear Elliot moving, and that fact sent her lungs into overdrive as she gasped for air. "Elliot, I need help, now!"

Impossibly, the figure in the darkness stood before her, but she felt a hand on her arm, and the incongruity of these two sensory items caused her to gasp. Then she screamed.

In a flash, the light was on, and the figure before her disappeared, and there was nothing and nobody in the room except Elliot at her side, frantically rubbing her back and saying, "It's okay, it's okay, Liv, it's just a dream."

"I'm sorry," she exhaled, wiping away tears.

She looked at his face now, and the familiarity of it calmed her. His eyebrows lowered in concern, and he said, "You okay?"

She nodded and said nothing. Not wanting to betray her helplessness in this moment, she begged him with her eyes instead of her words to stay with her. He must have understood her, because without saying anything, he slid into the bed next to her and enveloped her with protective arms.

Silent tears dripped off her face, as she pressed herself into him. Shaking wildly, she thought about how relieved she would be when this was all over.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Author's comments: **__You ready? Let's do this._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Nineteen

Days Sixteen through Twenty-Three

Part 1.

Elliot stared down at the stack of files on his desk. The trail had gone cold with Lewis, but Elliot worked the case several hours every day, even though he was getting loaded down with other cases now. Olivia had all but shut him out. Even as she gained her strength, she slept more hours during the day, and often she was asleep when he got home at night. Even when she wasn't, she was often quiet, only asking if he had made any progress finding Lewis.

Although she locked him out of her personal life, she freely admitted him into her bed at night, allowing his body to envelop her while she dreamed, protecting her from all threats, imagined and real. And then he would creep out in the morning, before she awoke, and assume his role as work partner. But he yearned for a deeper interaction with her, for at least some sign that she was handling what had happened to her, and not holding it all in so that it could build up until it demolished her from the inside out.

At work, Amanda approached him one day and said, "How's Olivia, El?"

He shrugged and said, "I don't know, hard to say." He tilted his head. "But I thought you were coming to see her regularly."

"Well, see, that's the thing," she said, "She hasn't let me come over for several days now. Always says she has a doctor's visit, or she's too tired. That's why I was wondering—"

"Hmmm . . ." said Elliot. "Nope, no doctor's visits that I know of. Maybe she's just tired."

"Okay," said Amanda, but it was more of a question. "Well, you keep an eye on her for me, will you?"

"Will do," said Elliot, as he watched her walk away, his mind racing.

Part 2.

Olivia was on pins and needles after the text from Lewis. Every day she waited for the next message to light up her phone, and meanwhile she prepared. She searched Elliot's apartment with shaking hands, jumping at every sound, until she found what she needed.

She knew it was only a matter of time before Elliot tired of her pushing him away and started fighting to be let in. And she knew she couldn't do that. Because if she let him, let anyone for that matter, she might change her mind.

Day Twenty-Four

Part 1.

Like a comet, it came, smashing into her world like a final unstoppable cataclysm. She was sitting in his chair, fully dressed, when she saw her phone light up. "I'm ready, r u?" it read.

She typed, "U bet," and waited, staring out the window.

"4th Ave. and 5th Street," came the response. "Come inside and to the right."

Part 2.

Elliot sat at his desk, staring at an ATM report from Alphabet City showing a withdrawal from Lewis' murdered defense attorney's account. His phone buzzed, and he looked at it, surprised to see that it was a text message from Olivia. She had not called or texted him at work, not once, since she was released from the hospital.

He read the words, and then jumped out of his seat. "Rollins, can you come here?" he said.

"What?" she said, coming to his desk.

"I have to go check on Olivia. Will you come with me, just in case?"

"In case of what?" she said, even as he handed her his phone.

He showed her the text from Olivia, which read. "You better come home, now."

She shook her head. "No other explanation?" she said.

"Nah," he said, pushing her number on speed dial as he rushed toward the elevator, Amanda close behind him. Her phone rang, and went straight to voicemail.

Part 3.

All the way to Elliot's apartment, Amanda frantically tried to call Olivia, but she would not pick up her phone. At his own front door, Elliot drew his weapon with one hand and fumbled with the keys with the other. He got the door unlocked and shouted, "Olivia?" Gun held high, he checked the living room, and then the bedroom, and she was nowhere in sight.

Amanda looked in the areas that Elliot had not, and when she got back to the living room, she said, "Elliot? I think you better see this."

He trotted in to see her holding Olivia's phone. Amanda looked up from the chair in front of her. "There was a note," she said, holding up a handwritten piece of paper with Olivia's handwriting on it.

The note read, "El, call for back-up to the address on my text messages."

"Let me see that," he said, pointing at Olivia's phone.

He held it in his hand, and on the screen was a text message that had only an address and directions. "Where'd she get this?" Elliot said.

"Her phone?" said Amanda. "I gave it to her."

"What? Why?" said Elliot. "It's evidence."

"Not anymore," she said, "CSU dumped it already and didn't find anything useful on it."

As Elliot scrolled through past messages, he felt heat rising to his face. "Gaaa . . ." he said, his hands flying up. "But now Lewis has a way to get ahold of her, and it looks like he already did."

Amanda's eyes widened. "I was just trying to help, I didn't think—"  
"You didn't think. That's right," said Elliot, dashing into the bedroom now. "I'll bet—" he said, fishing through his closet. "Yep. She got my other gun."

He returned to the living room to find Amanda with a hand clasped over her open mouth. And now the pieces all started to fit together in Elliot's mind. She had desperately wanted Elliot to find Lewis, had followed every detail of the case. But she hadn't wanted him found so that he could be tried and sent to prison. No, she wanted to take care of him herself.

"We've got to get over there right now," he said, as he sprinted to the door, Amanda tailing him. "She doesn't have a chance against him—she's in no condition to take him on."


	20. Chapter 20

_**Author's comments: **__Oh boy._

_Spoiler Alert—Rescue, season 12. Just re-watched this epi, I had forgotten how good it was. Too bad they never let her have Calvin back after that. Seems like they always want to take people away from poor Olivia. _

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty

Day Twenty-four, continued

Elliot could hear sirens in the distance as he pulled up next to an abandoned warehouse on the corner of 4th and 5th. Amanda had called Fin first, hoping SVU would be the first ones on the scene. Elliot sprinted inside, gun drawn and ready to fire. He and Amanda flanked either side of the front door of the warehouse, and Elliot burst through the door, gun pointed straight ahead.

He looked to the right immediately, where Lewis stood, back against the wall, completely naked.

Elliot aimed his gun square at Lewis, whose wide eyes reflected Elliot's. Amanda flanked him, her gun also pointed at the petrified man. Water dripped in a corner, echoing the silence.

Then Elliot saw Olivia, her black clothes and dark hair rendering her nearly invisible in the shadows of the warehouse. "Put the gun down, Liv," Elliot said to Olivia, who was standing a few feet away from Lewis, her arm rigid, holding Elliot's missing forty-five fixed straight at Lewis' head.

She ignored Elliot, her eyes narrowing, burning a hole through Lewis. Through clenched teeth, she said, "Who's in control now, you fucking prick?"

Lewis smiled, although he didn't look as sure of himself as he tried to. "Hey, I don't mind the breeze. Besides that, you're not going to do to me what I did to you. Not with your buddies here."

"Shut up, Lewis!" said Amanda, "You don't know her."

"Put the gun down, Liv," Elliot repeated gently, trying to get her to make eye contact, but her eyes locked on Lewis like a vice. Elliot kept his gun trained on Lewis but said to Olivia, "You don't want to do this. You don't want to spend a lifetime in jail. You know that."

"Did you do what I asked you to do, El? Are they coming?" she said, her tone even.

"Yeah, they're on their way," he nodded. He considered wrestling the gun away from her, but he didn't want to risk Lewis escaping in the confusion. "Just give me the gun, Liv," he said, holding his hand out to her and taking a couple of steps toward her.

"Stop right there, El, or I will blow him away," she said, articulating every word. "I'll do it." The veins stood out on her forehead, and her arms were taut from adrenaline, but her hands were steady, and he knew she could get off a clean shot.

"Okay, I know you will." Elliot's heart pounded. "Think about it, Liv. You don't want to do this."

She stood silent for a few seconds, as if considering his words, and then said, "You're right, I don't." She gradually lowered the gun, and Elliot felt a sense of relief until she stopped the downward descent of her hands when the barrel was pointed directly at his penis. "I don't want to kill him. I want to leave him the way he left me, alive but damaged."

The sound of the gunshot flooded Elliot's ears and almost made him jump out of his skin. As the echo from the gunshot subsided, he could hear his own voice shouting, "No, Liv! Don't—"

He still had his gun aimed at where Lewis had stood, but it was a moot gesture now, because the guy was on the floor screaming, and blood spilled out around him on the floor. Amanda ran toward him, saying into her radio, "Ten-fifty-four, we've got a suspect shot, needs immediate assistance—"

"No!" Olivia said. "Tell them not to come in. Not yet."

Elliot's and Amanda's heads turned in unison toward Olivia to see the gun under her own chin, the barrel pointed straight up. Elliot lowered his gun. "Hold on, everybody stand down," said Amanda into the phone. "We got an officer threatening suicide. Stand down."

Olivia's eyes locked on Elliot's, and they begged him not to come any closer. "Liv, don't do this," he said. "Please."

Tears drenched her face as she grimaced. "Oh I'm not going to, if everything goes well," she said. "How many officers do you think are out there now?"

He knew she was referring to the numerous sirens and flashing lights outside the building. There would be dozens of officers, guns drawn. "All I have to do is aim my gun into the crowd of armed uniforms out there," she said, "And they'll do the job for me."

Elliot shook his head. "No, Liv. Don't do this." He wanted desperately to go to her, hold her, comfort her, erase her pain. But he was afraid if he took a step toward her, she would do the unthinkable in front of him, and leave him with images that would never go away. "Please, just put the gun down, and we can go get you some help."

She shook her head, the gun still solidly lodged under her chin, her finger on the trigger. "Remember Vivian?" she said.

"Calvin's mother."

"Yeah. She said to me once that not everyone can get help, that some of us are just too damaged." Her eyes burned with intensity. "I thought she was wrong, but now I know what she meant."

Elliot kept shaking his head. "No, Liv, she was wrong. You can get help, and it will get better."

She narrowed her eyes and said, "How would you know? You have no idea what it's like . . ." She paused, and then said, "Move over by Amanda."

"Liv—"

"Now! Don't make me do this the hard way, El."

Unable to think of anything else to say to convince her, words jumbling in his head, he shuffled back towards Amanda, removing himself as the only barrier between her and the door. Their eyes locked. "I'm sorry, El. I love you," she said, almost in a whisper.

She kept the barrel of the gun under her chin, and limped back to the warehouse door. As she cleared the door, she turned her attention to the multitude officers surrounding the building. Elliot took advantage of her distraction to sprint toward her.

Olivia pulled the gun away from her chin and pointed it into the crowd of uniforms. Elliot reached her a second later and tackled her from behind, knocking her to the ground. They landed on the ground together with a thud, just before a shot went off. "Stand down!" he screamed at them, and the blissful sound of silence filled his ears.

He turned his attention to Olivia. The gun had fallen out of her hand and landed several feet away when she hit the ground. He turned her over, grateful to see that her eyes were still open. "You okay?" he said. "Were you hit?"

She shook her head, tears spilling out of her eyes freely.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Author's comments: **__The end. Just kidding._

_ Remember how I said that they're always taking people away from Olivia? Let's see if we can change that…_

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty-One

Day Twenty-four, continued

Part 1.

Olivia lay on the cold concrete, Elliot's full weight pressing on top of her. She knew already she wasn't seriously hurt—the bullet had missed her. Just after she had shot Lewis, she had felt no sudden lifting of the heaviness from despair. She had figured she wouldn't, but she thought that the pain might at least disappear when the sweetness of death washed over her, just like it had when Lewis tried to strangle her one last time in her apartment. But her suicide attempt had failed, thanks to Elliot.

After he rolled her over and checked her out, the shock of the moment began to wear off. Her shoulders tensed up, and she began to scream at him, pounding her fists into his chest. "Why? You should have let me die, dammit!"

Tears nearly blinded her, but she could see well enough to watch Elliot as he ignored her and pulled out his badge, flashing it at the uniformed men rushing toward them. "SVU—stand down!" he yelled. "I've got this—stand down."

They must have obeyed him, because Elliot turned his attention to her and held her flailing arms. "It's okay, Liv, calm down. It's gonna be okay—"

"Fuck you," she said, her temper taking full control of her, hands still slamming against him. "Bastard. Why didn't you let me die . . ."

The final words drifted away as sobs shook her body. The world spun around her like a tornado raging out of control. She put a hand to her head and pulled at her own hair, needing some release from the intensity of the emotions.

Elliot loosened his grip on her arms and said, "It's okay, Liv. It's gonna be okay. Shhh . . ."

The spinning stopped, and stillness took over in stark contrast. Radios clicked and officers whispered to one another, but the lack of movement caused Olivia to pull into herself. Elliot pulled her to him, saying in a whisper, "C'mon," until she dissolved into his embrace, sobs wracking her so hard that she felt like she couldn't breathe.

His arms surrounded her, and he said, "You're gonna be alright. I'm right here for you. Just remember that, no matter what."

She began to block out the other sounds around her until all she could hear was the soothing tone of Elliot's voice, saying, "I'm here, Liv. I'm here."

She clenched her eyes shut, but she could tell that officers were in a hurry to take her into custody, because she heard Elliot's voice say, "Back off. I'll do it."

"Liv," he murmured to her, "If you're not hurt, I have to cuff you. Can you stand?"

She pulled away and nodded, knowing that she couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. He helped her to her feet and she wiped tears away before he gently guided her arms behind her. The cold clicking of the cuffs around her wrists reminded her of Lewis, and then she remembered that he would no longer be able to hurt anyone after this.

As Elliot began to guide her toward his car, she kept her head down and avoided eye contact with everyone she knew, and those she didn't. Cragen appeared on the other side of her, holding her other arm. Before Elliot got to his car, though, the captain said, "Elliot, you can't. We need one of the uni's to take her in."

"Captain—" said Elliot.

"Don't," said Cragen. "We have to do this the right way."

Elliot sighed and took her to the patrol car of two officers she didn't recognize. As he opened the door and tucked her head down so she could sit in the back, he said to her, "Don't worry. I'm gonna take care of you." She cast one more tearful glance at him before he shut the door.

Part 2.

After Elliot finished the wrenching task of detaining his ex-partner into the back of a cruiser, he turned to Cragen and said, "Captain, before you turn her over to IAB, let me talk to her in the interrogation room."

Cragen was already shaking his head before Elliot got the words out. "You know I can't let you do that, Elliot."

"C'mon Captain. She's in no shape to be talking to anybody—she might not even ask for a lawyer. Just five minutes." Almost as an afterthought, he said, "Please."

"Now that's a word I never thought I'd hear you say." Cragen rubbed his chin and said, "I could get in big trouble for this, Elliot. Let's keep it on the down-low, because if IAB finds out—"

"I got it, Captain. Thank you."

Part 3.

Cragen and Elliot stood outside the interrogation room, looking in on Olivia though the one-way window. She slumped in the chair, her head resting in her hand. Her eyes sunken and her body thin as a rail, she looked like a shadow of her former self.

"How did I miss the signs?" Elliot asked. "I was right there with her, all this time."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Elliot," said Cragen. "Knowing her, she probably hid it well."

Elliot sighed and opened the door. He sat down across from her, but she didn't look up at him. "Liv," he said, "talk to me."

She didn't say a word, but she looked up at him and their eyes locked, a thousand questions trading between them. Elliot braced himself before saying haltingly, "Look, Liv, I know things have been rough for you. But why . . . how did it get to this point?"

Her eyes rolled up and to the left as she leaned back, saying, "What do you want me to say, El? My career is probably over, my personal life is dead—what's left for me?"

Thinking carefully before speaking again, he cleared his throat and said, "I—I should have talked to you earlier, Liv. I just didn't know how to say what I needed to say when I left. I went through some tough times after shooting Jenna."

He had her attention again, but he had to force the words out of his mouth. "I didn't get help, and I drove my family away with my moodiness. After Kathy left—" He shook his head and trained his gaze on his hands. His eyes moistened, recalling the day she told him she was moving out, for good this time. "I hit rock bottom. I gave serious thought to ending it all."

"Why didn't you talk to me?" she asked, her voice angry.

"So much time had already passed," he said. "So much was left unsaid—I couldn't bring myself to face you."

The corners of her lips turned down, and he knew it wasn't enough for her. But he had to at least try to get through to her, despite her resentment. "Look, Liv, I know it wasn't right to exclude you." He turned his head to the side as tears began to rise to the surface. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that, I got about as low as you can get. I thought life sucked, and that I'd never be happy again."

He glanced back at her and noticed her head tilted to the side, her eyebrows lowering. "But what I came to realize, was that there are still people who love me. My kids, for one." His gaze returned to her, and he began to choke up as he said, "And you know, you've proved to me what I suspected all along—that there's someone else who loves me."

They stared at each other wordlessly, and he could see a transformation wash over her face as her defenses fell away. Her mouth opened slightly, but she hesitated. Looking down again, she ran fingers through her hair before saying, "I've tried to be strong, El. But there's only so much one person can take. The physical pain was hard, but all the other stuff—"

She shook her head and stopped. "Like what, Liv?" said Elliot. "Is it Brian?"

She nodded. "Brian, but not just because I miss him." She wiped away tears as she spoke. "I've never had anyone close stick around for the long-haul, Elliot. When Brian looked like he might be the one, I finally allowed myself to get comfortable with the idea that I might have someone who—"

She stopped again, choking back tears. "Someone who loved you," Elliot finished.

Elliot thrust his hands over the table as he leaned forward and grabbed hers. "Liv, you've got it. I'm right here." He stroked her fingers as he watched her tough expression melt away and her shoulders quiver from the tears that kept her mute. Feeling as if the words weren't enough, he gulped and said, "Olivia, I—."

The door flew open, and both of their heads turned to see a steely-faced Lieutenant Tucker barged in. "This illicit interview is over, Stabler. Get the hell out of here before I have your badge."


	22. Chapter 22

_**Author's comments: **__Thanks for sticking it out guys. I can't believe I've gone on this long, but I still have some ends to tie up. _

_Oh, and I had an idea—Since we won't see the season premier until the END of September, I could stay busy by writing my own version of the entire 15__th__ season, with this as the premiere. I'm working on some ideas for new "episodes," lol. _

_ It's been fun researching New York laws for this story. Believe it or not, I used to be an attorney, although I was in family court, not criminal. But then I got this bad SVU addiction, and lost my job and my life became absorbed in writing fanfiction. Just kidding. But not about being a lawyer. _

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty-Two

Day Twenty-four, continued

Part 1.

"Don't say anything, Liv," Elliot said as he stood to leave.

Olivia shook her head and said, "But I'm—"

"Don't—" said Elliot.

"Stabler," interrupted Tucker, pulling Elliot by the arm. "Out, now."

Elliot jerked his arm away from Tucker and cast one more warning glance to Olivia before exiting on his own.

Just outside the interrogation room stood Cragen and Rollins. The Captain averted his eyes, while Rollins came right to him. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she said, "That was really sweet of you, Stabler." Elliot blushed and looked away.

"Captain," he said, "shouldn't she be transferred to the hospital and put on seventy-two hour hold, since she's suicidal?"

"That's not the way it's being treated, Elliot. She aimed at other officers. They're calling it assault."

Elliot lowered his eyebrows at the suggestion. "So what's it going to take to get her some real help?"

Cragen sighed. "I want her to get help too, Elliot. There will be plenty of time for that when her case is tried."

Barba showed up in a crisp, tailored suit and said to Cragen, "Sorry it took me so long to get here. I had a hearing that went over." Meeting Elliot's gaze, he said, "And I'm sorry about your partner, Detective Stabler. Former partner, I mean. I have a lot of respect for Olivia. Unfortunately, things are not looking so hot for her."

"Are you prosecuting her?" said Cragen.

"No, I told my boss I wouldn't do it. He tried to tell me I had to take whatever came in front of me, but I pointed out that I was already prosecuting her victim, so it would be a conflict of interest."

"So, any chance of her avoiding jail time?" said Elliot. "Can the defense make out a case of self-defense?"

"Or maybe temporary insanity, like Lorena Bobbit," said Amanda.

"The woman who cut her husband's package off?" said Cragen.

"Well, I'm sorry guys," chimed in Barba. "But just because I'm not trying the case doesn't mean I can discuss her defenses with you. I still work for the DA. What I can say is that they're going to try her for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, and if she's found guilty, she'll get a minimum of five years."

"That's bullshit," said Elliot. "I've got to find her a good lawyer."

Part 2.

Olivia wasn't in any mood to take crap off Tucker today. Even before he could get in a question, she said, "I'm not saying a word. I want a lawyer."

She knew the routine. She had been through it three times before. The halls of Central Booking smelled like piss, and she breathed through her mouth as they escorted her to a bench in the hallway so she wouldn't have to cell with perps who might recognize her for who she was. Arraignment wouldn't be until tomorrow.

She sat down on the only spot that wasn't covered in cigarette ashes and filth, and a uniform chained her to the bench. She startled when a mouse scurried past her feet, making a hasty retreat from an empty candy bar wrapper. Deciding the bench was safer than the ground, she lay down on it and closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would whisk her consciousness away from this place.

Somehow she lay still in that chaotic place all night, despite the dregs of the earth passing by her with their whiskey-laden smells and loud cat-calls. She lay there and ignored obsessive thoughts about what had happened, and instead replayed the words from Elliot in an endless loop.

"You've proved to me that there's someone else who loves me . . ."

"Someone who loved you . . ."

"Liv, you've got it—I'm right here . . ."

"Olivia, I—"

All these years, paired together, and not once had he said anything along those lines. She thought she might as well face it—she had hid her feelings all these years, even from herself. But she couldn't deny that he was more than a partner to her, she'd almost said as much so many times in the past.

But the rape, the torture, the pain from it all . . . and her predicament now—how could she get over all that and go back to a normal life? And then she realized—he had been there through the entire ordeal. He knew the damage she had. He had seen her at her lowest, when she shut him out completely, even when she had yelled at him in the hospital. She had pretended not to remember, but even through the haze, she knew she had torn him a new one.

He had seen her blow a man's balls off. That should be enough to send any man packing to a destination halfway across the country. And yet he was still here.

The sensation of a hand firmly handling her ass snapped her out of her inner dialogue, and she leapt off the bench and almost simultaneously, grabbed the hand that had grabbed her and bent it behind the man's back. "If you ever touch me again, I will _hurt _you," she said through clenched teeth to the grubby-looking whino in her grasp.

Officers immediately wrestled her away from the man, who turned and looked at her with wide eyes. "Sorry, Ma'am," he said, "I just tripped."

"Tripped, my ass," she said. She cast him one last searing look, but her insides began to thaw. She may not be in the best shape right now, but she was relieved to know that she still had some bad-ass in her.


	23. Chapter 23

_**Author's comments: **__I thought it made sense to have Mariska's husband represent Olivia. _

_ I basically made up the location of the warehouse where Lewis met Olivia. Out of curiosity, I researched it, and I think there may actually be a restaurant there. It's part of the East Village, and I think (but not sure) that the warehouse district is more in the Lower West Side. I used to live near NYC and visited weekly, but it was a long time ago._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty-Three

Part 1.

Right after Olivia's arraignment, Elliot paid her bail, and he was waiting for her outside the jail. He held up his arms, and she accepted his unspoken invitation and walked into his embrace. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, and he held it there with his hand, wrapping his fingers around a fistful of her hair. She stood and breathed deeply, inhaling his scent, relishing the safety of his grasp.

She didn't want to, but she pulled away, remembering that her attorney was supposed to meet her. Spotting him as he approached, Olivia said, "Here's Langan now."

Elliot turned to him and held out a hand to shake Trevor's. "Langan, never thought I'd be so glad to see you," said Elliot.

"Hey," he said with a smile, but then his face turned serious. "Just talked to the prosecutor, Olivia. They're willing to accept a plea of assault in the second degree, which carries a minimum sentence of two years. You could be out in as little as five months." Olivia blew out the breath she had been holding. "It's a pretty good deal, really," he said, "considering the evidence."

She shook her head. "It may be," she said, "but what other options are there? I had a bad experience working undercover in a prison once. I don't know if I can do it again."

"You may have no choice," said Langan. "If you fight this in court and lose, you'd be looking at a minimum of five years instead, and you would definitely spend at least a year behind bars. Plus, they could always tack on the little Thelma and Louise stunt you pulled at the end."

"What would my chances be?" she said, her voice quieter.

"I can only see one decent defense. We would have to show that you were so traumatized by the rape that you lost it when you went after Lewis, and went temporarily insane. But the chances of winning with that defense are low, unless you can convince a jury that you that you don't even remember shooting him because you were out of your mind."

She bit her top lip and shook her head again. Looking him straight in the eye, she said, "I knew what I was doing."

"You shouldn't be telling me that," he said.

Elliot jumped in. "Can't you just say that she was afraid for her life?"

"Self-defense?" said Langan. "I thought of that. But it's doubtful that she would win that argument. Juries don't usually go for the battered victim defense unless the attacker is going after the victim in the moment."

He looked back at Olivia. "I hate to point out the obvious, but Lewis was not only unarmed, but you had him cornered against the wall, naked. There's no way we can argue that you were in imminent danger. And the farther in time the offense was from the original assault, it begins to look less like self-defense and more like revenge. You had almost a month to plan this out, and you searched him out."

"No," she said, "you're wrong. He sought me out—"

"You went to meet him. That was your choice—"

Olivia shifted impatiently from one foot to the other. "He might have come back and killed me."

"It's not a legitimate defense," said Langan.

Olivia's mouth fell open, and she said, "Isn't there any other way?"

Langan shook his head and said, "Unless we could show you honestly didn't intend to shoot him, there's nothing left but what I've told you. Your best bet would be to take the deal."

Olivia's mouth fell open and she stared into the distance, and then said, "No. I can't do that. Two years, five years, any jail time is going to break me." She turned back to him and said, "Put me on the stand. I have to tell my story, at least try to convince the jurors that what that man put me through justified my actions."

"Olivia," said Elliot, resting a hand on her arm, "are you sure you're up for that?"

She nodded heartily. "If it's a choice between that or prison, I'll testify."

"You're taking a huge risk," said Langan. "What I gave you was the minimum you might serve. You could do twenty-five years if the judge doesn't show any mercy."

Olivia set her jaw. "I'll take my chances," she said.

Part 2.

Olivia and Elliot sat quietly in the car while Elliot drove them home, absorbing what they had just heard from Langan. The jumbled thoughts were giving Olivia a headache, especially after getting no sleep in the hellhole of central booking, so she switched gears and thought of her conversation with Elliot in the interrogation room.

"Elliot," she said, disrupting the stillness.

Keeping his focus on the road, he said, "Yeah?"

She swallowed hard. "I just wanted to say . . . thank you."

He hesitated before saying, "For what?"

Her voice barely audible and cracking from lack of sleep, she said, "For what you said to me, about . . . being there for me."

A smile flashed across his lips. "I meant it, too, Olivia. You can count on me, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

She laid her head back against the seat and sighed. As she stared out the window at the lights blurring by, the sensation of skin on her hand jolted her, and she closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of Elliot's hand grasping hers.


	24. Chapter 24

_**Author's comments: **__Wow, thanks for all the really awesome comments! I aim to please…_

_ So, thought it was about time for this chapter. I know some of you have been probably been waiting for this for quite a while (and others, not so much, but—it's my story and I'll E/O if I want to, la la la). Always the most difficult type of scene to write, though, so I hope you enjoy._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty-Four

As they walked together, hand-in-hand, from the garage back to Elliot's apartment, he noticed that her gait was still slow and stiff, and he knew she still had some healing to do. It was easy to forget wounds that were no longer visible.

When they came to the steps leading up to the building, he slipped his hand from hers and slid it around her waist to support her. She grimaced a little, but tried to hide it from him. His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket and said, "Stabler."

Watching her tilt her head in curiosity, he said to the person on the other line, "Okay, good . . . yeah."

He hung up and said, "That was Fin. He wanted to tell us that Lewis has pulled through. He's in serious condition but he's going to make it."

Olivia looked down as her face fell. "Hey," said Elliot, "that's good news. It means they can't charge you with murder."

Creases formed on her forehead as she said, "And he's—"

"He's not going anywhere, don't worry. We got guys on him round the clock, but he wouldn't be able to get up anyway."

Once they were inside his place, he said, "You want something to eat? I know you didn't touch any of those tasty peanut butter sandwiches at central booking."

"No thanks, El," she said. "I think I just want to go ahead to bed."

The sun had barely gone down, and she had not said a word about her ordeal since she was released. With trepidation, he said, "Liv, you want to talk?"

With a twinge of irritation in her voice, she said, "No, Elliot. I'm fine."

"You're fine," he repeated.

"Yes . . . I am," she said. "I just want to get some sleep."

He rolled his eyes and said, "Look, I know you're tired. But I know you're not fine. You just shot a guy, tried to take your own life, and spent the night in jail. You're not fine—"

"So what do you want me to say, El?" Her angry eyes turned away from him. "What are you, my shrink now?"

"Well, look," he said, stepping toward her until his face was right next to hers. "I may not be an expert, but I know what clamming up has done for you these last few weeks. It's led to this—"  
"No, El." Her jaw clenched, and she said, "My rape and torture has led to this. And you trying to get into my head isn't going to fix anything."

He huffed and turned away, saying, "You know what, fine. Shut me out, like you've been doing. But keep it up, and one day you'll find that I'm done waiting to be let in."

A heavy silence fell in the space between them, and he knew he had just said the worst words he could have said, words that would cut deepest into her chasm of existing wounds.

She raised her eyebrows and said softly, "Well, if that's how you feel, maybe I should just go now and get it over with."

She grabbed a jacket and turned toward the door, and he said, "No, no, no—wait, Liv." She strode to the door, but he kept right at her side and said, "I didn't mean that."

She put her hand on the door handle, but before she could open it, he grabbed her arms and swung her around to face him. "Liv, wait," he said.

Her mouth tightened into a thin line, and she said, "Get your hands off me."

Letting go of her slowly, in the hopes that she would stay planted right where she stood, he said, "Liv, please, just hear me out. I was just angry. I meant what I said earlier. I'm not going anywhere, I swear."

Her face started to scrunch up, and his chest tightened at the thought that he had made her cry. "No, Elliot, I know it's too late for me," she said, her expression one of resolve as the first tear fell. "You would have to be Bhudda to put up with my crap."

He shook his head. "No, Olivia. I happily put up with your crap for twelve years, and you put up with mine. In fact, it was because of you that I came back." Her eyes softened. He rested a hand on her shoulder and tried to find the courage to say what he needed to say. "You have no idea how much . . . how much it's helped me to have you in my life again. The worst thing that could happen would be to lose you again. That's why I got so upset just now—I almost lost you yesterday. I don't think I could handle it if—"

Her glistening eyes stopped him. She put her hand on the back of his head and leaned her forehead into his until they touched. His heart pounding, every muscle tensed, he closed his eyes and exhaled.

He reached out a finger and tilted her chin up so that he could peer into her eyes again, and it seemed as if they gave him permission. Her lips brushed against his, and then she planted them firmly on his mouth, sending jolts of electricity rushing up his spine.

Grasping the back of her neck, he held her there, exploring the softness of those lips. Although she smelled of cigarettes and alcohol from the jail, she tasted surprisingly sweet and musky, like perfume mixed with lip gloss. Just as chills reached his head and his toes simultaneously, she pulled away ever so slightly and closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his once more. The sound of her heavy breathing filled his ears, and every pore on his flesh opened to the soft caressing of her hand on his scalp.

Pulling back so he could see her eyes again, he thought he saw her walls melting away as he ran a finger down her face, tracing the edge of her hairline. Knowing that she needed to rest now, he bent down and put his arm under her knees and swooped her up like he had that first night he brought her home.

"Elliot—" she said, with a slight tremble in her voice.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not gonna try anything."

He set her down gently on the bed, and said, "Do you want me to come back in when you're ready for bed?" He smiled. "I give a pretty good shoulder rub."

A smile flashed across her lips, and she said, "Yeah, that sounds nice."

When she was ready, he slipped back into her room, and while she lay on her stomach, he massaged the muscles in her neck and back. He could see her muscles unclenching as he dug his thumbs into her flesh, until her chest rose and fell rhythmically, and he knew she was asleep. Then he slid into the bed next to her, and held her through the night, hoping to protect her from her own dark impulses. Lying there, listening to her breathing, he knew he couldn't ever let her go again.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Author's comments: **__Now, I know I'm taking it slow with these two lovebirds, but I just kinda figured, that after 12 years of working together, and two years of being apart, and the way these characters are, they just wouldn't jump into each other's arms right away, ya know? Especially after what happened to Benson. _

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty-Five

Part 1.

Olivia startled awake to the sound of sliding drawers and a jingling belt as Elliot got ready for work. She lay still, fighting sleep, as the bed slumped where Elliot sat on the edge of it. Giddiness kept her awake, as she relived what had happened last night. What he had said to her, the kiss, the back rub, it was like her everything she had ever dreamed of was coming true.

And yet, a part of her wouldn't shut up, telling her that she was a fool to believe that any man would stay with her now, the way things were. Although Elliot was one of the few guys out there who didn't let his dick rule his brain, how could he stay with her when she couldn't give him the one thing that kept passion alive?

And what if she went to prison—how much more damaged would she be after that? But she brushed those thoughts aside, and tried to focus on the present. He was here now, and she might as well enjoy it.

He bent down and kissed her on the cheek, and she opened her eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. He stroked her hair and said, "I'm going now."

Sitting straight up in bed, she said, "Wait." Grabbing his arm, she waited for him to take her cue and sit down, facing her. Meeting his eyes with hers, she said, "I just want to say . . . thank you. What you said last night—it helped a lot."

He whispered, "You're welcome," and waited to see if she had anything else to get off her chest.

Her mouth dropped open as she tried to say more, but she realized there were no words that could convey how she felt in this moment. So instead, she leaned forward and planted her mouth firmly on his, sliding one hand behind his back to hold him in place. At first he tensed, and then he relaxed into the kiss, eagerly opening his mouth to her insistent lips.

As the kiss lingered, a tingle traveled down her spine, and she felt sensations reawaken in her for the first time since before her assault. The driving urge frightened her though, and reluctantly she pulled away and gasped. She opened her eyes to see him smiling boyishly, as if it was his first kiss ever.

He rubbed her arm, and then leaned in and kissed her once more, and she gave in, despite her fears. Then he backed off and said, "Save that thought," and grinned deviously as he stood for work.

She smiled back at him, not wanting to voice her reservations just yet. "Okay," she said, gazing up at his longing eyes. He ran one finger over her cheek, and then left her there to dream and obsess and worry.

Part 2.

As soon as he was gone, Olivia returned to her compulsive checking of the locks and the closets, and glanced out the window for any signs of danger. She kept reminding herself that Lewis was not in a position to hurt her anymore, but the residual terror kept rising to the surface, causing her to forget again.

Not too long passed before her hyper vigilance was interrupted by a buzzing at the door. "Hello?" she said into the intercom, ready to pick up the landline and call nine-one-one at the first sign of danger.

A familiar voice said, "It's me, Alex."

"Alex!" Olivia said, buzzing her in almost immediately.

Olivia opened the door and smiled brightly before stepping aside to let her in. But as soon as their eyes met, Alex leaned forward and wrapped an arm around her, embracing her in a tight hug. Olivia closed her eyes and soaked it in.

Alex pulled back and said, "I'm sorry I haven't stopped by sooner, Olivia. I went away on a month-long vacation to Europe, and I come back to hear that this awful thing happened? My god, Liv," she said, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry."

Olivia's head dropped, and she shrugged. Alex continued, saying, "But you look like you're feeling pretty good, for someone who just went through hell."

A smile crept onto Olivia's lips, despite her best efforts. "I am," she said. "For now."

Alex examined her face, eyebrows lowered, and said, "You're practically glowing. Almost like . . . you're in love. Olivia?"

Olivia's face flushed as she said, "Possibly."

Alex did a double take and said, "Elliot?"

Olivia didn't say a word, but she knew Alex got it by her grin. Olivia tried to change the subject by saying, "But you're not here to hear about my personal life, right?"

Alex's lips formed a thin line. "Well, look. Officially, I'm just checking in on a friend. Off the record . . . I want to talk to you about your case."

Olivia sighed. "Alex—"

"Just hear me out," said Alex. "I know it's against the rules to talk to you, but I can't stand by and watch you go to prison, Liv."

They sat down, and Alex said, "They're putting together a case for the grand jury right now. You'll be indicted by the end of the week. Unfortunately, because Lewis's case is for more serious charges, his trial will be after yours. That means that you won't be able to show your jury that he's a convicted murderer."

"I realize that," said Olivia.

"Well then you know that you're going to have to prove your case against him at your trial, which means you have to testify twice—once at your own trial, and then again at his."

Olivia puckered her lips and nodded. Lines formed on Alex's forehead as she realized that what she was saying wasn't having the impact she had hoped. "Olivia, from what I understand about this guy, he's going to make you look like an over-reactive, vengeful sex crimes cop jaded by too many years on the job."

"He raped and tortured me for twelve hours, Alex."

"You and I know that, but you have to not only convince the jury of that, but also convince them that you weren't in your right mind when you went after him, that you were so afraid of imminent danger that you had to go after him right then, that you weren't just seeking out revenge."

"So what are you saying?" said Olivia, her chest tightening. "That I should just give up and take the time they're offering?" Alex met her desperate words with a blank stare, and Olivia knew that was exactly what she was saying. Olivia's gaze dropped, and she contemplated Alex's words for a minute before saying, "I can't do it, Alex. I know what I did was wrong, but he put me through hell, and I stopped him from ever doing the same thing to another woman."

Alex didn't respond, and Olivia shook her head, saying, "I'm not going to jail, I can't—"

Alex put a hand on Olivia's knee and said, "You may not have a choice, Liv. And you may go away for a long time if you go through with this."

Olivia stood and turned away. "No, Alex. I do have a choice, and I choose to take my chances with the jury."


	26. Chapter 26

_**Author's comments: **__Ah, heck with it, let's get to trial. I've been dying to start this. Sorry for the short chapter, haven't had much time to write lately._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty-Six

Part 1.

Olivia stood outside the towering courtroom doors and took a deep breath. As she waited in the hallway, she thought about the six weeks leading up to her trial. The ups and downs had thrown her into a swirl of mood swings, much like a bad carnival ride.

When Elliot was away at work, she had way too much time on her hands, and that was when she tried her hardest to stay out of her head. There were entire days spent tumbling between flashbacks and self-loathing, alternating between checking the locks and trying to motivate herself to get out of the house so she wouldn't start contemplating her worthiness.

Elliot had convinced her to see Huang three days a week, to work through some of the more difficult issues. It helped, but not as much as seeing Elliot every night. When he got home, she found new reserves of energy that revived her in ways she never would have imagined.

Ever since that first kiss, every touch was charged. When he was with her, it was like memories of the blood and the burning flesh and the hatred could not find a space to penetrate through the safe partition of his tender embrace. What's more, he did not dare try to force her to talk anymore, and she was glad he didn't, because if he knew of the depths to which her moods plunged, he would likely have her committed.

Her body was recovering, even faster than Melinda Warner had expected. She'd had surgery to reconnect her shredded insides so that she could use the bathroom the proper way. Elliot had taken care of her like a trooper, waiting on her like a gentleman should. And at her follow-up exam, Melinda—

the only doctor she trusted with her treatment—had been amazed at the extent of her healing.

"Olivia," she had said, "most of the dead skin has sloughed off, and now it's mostly scar tissue. Things can only get better from here on out."

There was very little pain from the actual injuries now—only the wounds from the surgery still burned. But she had very little sensation anymore, and she wasn't sure how well she could tolerate any form of intercourse—at least until she tried it. And that fact scared her. The only thing that scared her more was the thought of Elliot leaving her if she couldn't get back to her former self.

Now she stood at the mahogany doors, ready to enter and watch her fate play out in front of a courtroom full of people.

Part 2.

When Lewis had been wheeled into the courtroom, Olivia had inhaled deeply. She had been expecting him to testify via Skype from a hospital bed, but instead he was here, in the flesh. His assistant turned him around to face her and the rest of the courtroom, and he did not even have to leave his wheelchair, which meant he sat at eye level with her. His eyes first swept the jury with a charming twinkle, and then trained on her, the evil and contempt seeping through.

She closed her eyes, and then forced herself to open them, knowing that the jury would be less sympathetic to a defendant who appeared unapologetic. His gaze stabbed her through the entire opening line of questioning, and then she began to fight back a scowl as he lied to the judge and jury and God himself.

"So, did you do these horrible acts that the defendant accuses you of?" said ADA Michael Cutter.

Lewis smiled widely. "Of course not. It's just a case of mistaken identity. She thought I did it, so she came after me. It's perfectly understandable, of course—if she had been right." He shook his head now. "But she got the wrong guy."

Cutter cast a glance at the jury, and then said, "And what is the extent of your injuries, Mr. Lewis?"

Now Lewis put on a face of downtrodden eyes and a believable frown. Olivia thought she even saw tears in the corners of his eyes. "Well," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry—"

"It's okay, Mr. Lewis, just take your time," said his sympathetic attorney.

Cutter handed him a box of tissues, but he put out a hand to refuse. "Um. Well she stood there, aimed that gun right at my testicles while I was naked and unarmed, and blew them clean off. Not only that, but my penis, too . . ."

Somehow, he conjured up real tears, and wiping them away with his hand, said, "Let's just say that she stole my manhood."

Olivia fought back sarcastic laughter. Glancing at the jury, she saw that most of them were buying his act, empathy visible on their faces. "One last question," said Cutter. "Why do you think Ms. Benson attacked you?"

"Objection, calls for speculation," said Langen, standing.

"Overruled," said Judge Barth. She said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, "Go ahead, Mr. Lewis, but be specific, please."

As if nobody had interrupted, Lewis said, "From the things she's said to me from the beginning, ever since my first arrest of many—all unsubstantiated, she has a thing against men." Olivia could no longer help herself—she shook her head vigorously. "I think she has seen one too many rape cases, and can you blame her? If I was around that for thirteen years, I would probably see all men as rapists too."

"No further questions, Your Honor."


	27. Chapter 27

_**Author's comments: **__Oh, Liv._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Part 1.

Olivia's heart pounded as she watched Langan approach the bench for cross. "Mr. Lewis," he said, "You say you have no idea why Ms. Benson assaulted you, because you weren't the one who raped her, correct?"

"I never laid a hand on her," said Lewis, still acting hurt from his direct examination performance.

"Well, I'm just curious then, how you would explain all the forensic evidence linking you to Ms. Benson's apartment—your DNA, fingerprints—"

"Objection, Your Honor," said Cutter. "None of these items have been entered into evidence."

"Oh, I will," said Langan. "And then Mr. Cutter will recall his witness to explain them away. I'm giving him a chance to do that now."

"Objection overruled," said Judge Barth. "You may answer, Mr. Lewis."

Lewis glanced at Olivia, and her muscles tensed as she waited for his response. "Well, now, I don't want to get her in trouble or anything, but . . ." Olivia wanted to stand up and yell at the jury not to fall for his lies, but she sat quietly, trying to control her emotions. "Well, the night she claims I raped her, she actually contacted _me_, through _my _attorney—"

Olivia's mouth fell open.

"Your defense attorney? You mean the one you murdered?" said Langan.

"Objection!" said Cutter.

"Withdrawn," said Langan.

"Anyway," said Lewis, looking a little put-off by the interruption, "I was a little surprised, because I thought she hated me. But as it turned out, she secretly had a thing for me, which is I guess why she kept badgering me. Kind of like a love-sick school boy who pulls a girl's pigtails—"

"Just answer the question, Mr. Lewis," Langan said sarcastically.

"I am. So yeah, we hooked up that night," said Lewis, shrugging his shoulders.

Langan lowered his eyebrows and said, "So wait, you're telling me that the woman who, in your own words, had it out for you, who hated you so much that she went looking for you to blow your testicles off, that she sought you out to sleep with you?"

Lewis said, without blinking, "What can I say? I don't know why she went after me. Maybe somebody else raped her, and she thought it was me. It happens." Olivia clenched her jaw. "Or maybe she was angry with me, because I left that night. She didn't want me to. Maybe she wasn't really raped at all, and this was her way of getting back at me."

"You're suggesting she staged her own violent rape?"

"Scorned women have been known to do worse."

Olivia brought her hand up to her mouth, afraid her anger might show through. But then she looked at the jury, and realized that several of them looked as if they smelled through the crap he was trying to feed them. She secretly smiled, although her hands still shook.

Part 2.

"I call Olivia Benson to the stand," said Langan. She stood slowly, and hobbled her way to the hot seat, still sore from her surgery. Scanning the courtroom, her eyes stopped on Elliot, who gave her a sad smile for reassurance. Lewis sat in the back of the room in his wheelchair, apparently feeling well enough to mock her in person by his presence.

"Olivia," said Langan gently, "The best you can, will you walk us through what happened the night you were assaulted?"

Olivia took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. For once, she was glad of the tremor in her voice as she began to relive the excruciating details of that night. Speaking in a monotone, she stared out into space and read the memories off like facts from a news cast.

When she came to the part where Lewis dragged Brian into the room, half-conscious, she said, "And then, he raped me, right in front of Brian. And when Brian yelled for him to stop, he got off me, and . . ." She cleared her throat, and said, voice cracking, "And he kicked Brian. Kicked him in the head, in the face . . ." She started to break up into tears, making it difficult to get the words out.

"I'm sorry," she said in a whisper.

"It's okay, Olivia," said Langan, handing her a box of tissues. "Take your time."

She nodded slowly and said, "Okay." Then she relayed the events that came next—the way he had beat her mercilessly with her belt, the time he got out the baseball bat and slammed it into Brian's head, killing him, and her reaction to it. The tears came steadily as she recounted it all, but not enough to keep her from testifying. She clenched her lips as she said, "Then he told me to shut up, or he would gag me. He just killed my boyfriend, and I had to lie there silently."

She glanced out into the courtroom to see Elliot, eyes downcast as he listened to her tell her story for the first time. She continued on, spilling out every detail that she could remember from the next several hours of her torture session. Langan had told her during trial preparation that it was best that she testify to every single thing she could remember, that it would help the jury buy the idea that she was tortured for as long as she had been. She hated the idea of "selling" anything to anyone, but she understood the importance of having a winning plan.

"He went into the other room, and came back with a fireplace poker that he had heated on the stove," she continued. She steeled herself and closed her eyes, saying, "And then he—"

She paused, shivering. "Do you need a break, Olivia?" said Langan.

"No," she said softly. She kept her eyes closed, reveling in the freshness of the tears sliding down her cheeks. "He shoved . . . a red-hot poker inside me."

Inhaling the stale courtroom air, she opened her eyes to search out Elliot for comfort, and found him with a hand cupped to his mouth, a tear straying down his face as well. She nodded rhythmically. "And then he did the same thing to me, anally." She paused, closing her eyes again, and said, "The pain was worse than anything I could ever have imagined."

The silence inside the court room was like every person simultaneously took a breath and refused to let go. Someone coughed. Olivia clenched her teeth together and continued. "After that, things are fuzzy. I remember waiting for him to kill me, or leave, and eventually he did go, and left me there—handcuffed naked to the bed, for hours."

"How many hours were you tortured, Olivia?"

"Um, I don't know for sure, but it was at least twelve. And then they found me, several hours later."

"Thank you, Olivia," he said as she wiped away tears. "I have no more questions."

Part 3.

Cutter started out harmless enough. In a polite tone, he said, "Ms. Benson, I understand you have some difficult memories from the night you say you were assaulted. And I'm sure your attorney will bring forward additional evidence to try and substantiate your claims. But I want to ask you about the day you went after Mr. Lewis."

She crossed her legs and shifted in her seat, and he continued. "About a month after your alleged assault, did you agree to meet with Mr. Lewis at an abandoned warehouse?"

She bit her lips in between her teeth, and then said, "He texted me—"

"Yes or no, Ms. Benson."

She met his stare through puffy eyes. "Yes, I did."

"And you dug your former partner's gun out of the closet at his apartment, and took it to the warehouse with you?"

"Yes."

"And during this meeting, did you force Mr. Lewis to strip naked at gunpoint."

She paused, and then said quietly, "Yes."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you then proceeded to shoot Mr. Lewis, standing only about five feet away."

She closed her eyes. With fingers spread wide apart, said, "I don't—"

Cutter's voice rose. "Please answer the question, Ms. Benson."

She nodded and said, "Yes. I shot him."

"Did you mean to shoot him?"

Eyes glued shut, she said, "I don't—I'm not sure."

"You're not sure, Ms. Benson? Either you did mean to shoot him or you didn't."

"I did at first," she said, her voice steady. "I wanted to blow the bastard away."

She looked straight ahead and saw Elliot cringe. She continued, narrowing her eyes into slits. "And then I just wanted to make him suffer, the way I suffered."

"So you wanted revenge."

She tried to fight the urge to seek out Lewis in his wheelchair, but ultimately lost, glaring at the smug look on his face. "Yes," she said, her voice hard.

"Nothing further, Your Honor."

Olivia began to feel light-headed as she struggled to take in air fast enough for her panicking lungs. She caught one last glimpse of the jury, and caught the last juror out of the jury box casting a steely glance back toward her. The weight of her mistake fell on her then, and she knew her fate was sealed.


	28. Chapter 28

_**Author's comments: **__Trial practice 101—Langan's biggest mistake last chapter: never, ever ask an open-ended question to a witness on cross-examination. He let Lewis talk too much, should have stuck with the yes or no questions._

_ Wow, I almost had to take a breather writing this one. If you don't want the E/O parts, just skim through part 2. But it's pretty yummy._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Part 1.

"Court is adjourned for the day, we'll resume with defense tomorrow," said the judge.

The noise in the courtroom was muffled by the ringing in Olivia's ears. Elliot came forward and met her halfway, placing a hand on her shoulder to console her, but his own expression betrayed the uncertainty of the effects of her testimony. "I screwed up," she said, her voice high-pitched with fear.

"It's okay," said Elliot softly. "It'll be okay. Let's go talk to your attorney."

Langan had been in intense discussions with Cutter, but he approached Olivia now, straightening his stance. She cut him off and spoke first, saying, "How bad is it?"

Langan sighed. "There's a small chance they might still acquit based solely on sympathy. I don't think any of them were buying that half-assed story Lewis tried to feed them. But I doubt you'll win on the temporary insanity defense. It would difficult to find that you were out of your mind when you went after him—"

"Because I fucked up," she nodded.

"The DA is offering a deal of assault two, as long as you take a sentence of three years. It's probably a good two years less than what you'll serve if we let this thing play out to the jury."

Olivia's heart dropped into her stomach as she realized she was most likely going to prison. Elliot pursed his lips after hearing the prognosis, and said, "Wait, Liv, can I talk to you for a second?"

Langan lowered his eyebrows as Elliot shot him a look that told him to back off and leave them alone. Elliot put his hand on her arm and steered her to a place in the hall where they could talk in private. "Don't take the deal, Liv," he said.

"What? But El, you heard what he said. I could spend _five_ _years, _maybe more—"

"I know, I know. But . . . let's just call it a hunch—"

She jutted her chin toward him. "You want me to make a decision that could cost me years of my life, based on your intuition?"

He said nothing, but drew his lips together.

"Elliot—"

"Look, I just . . . please, just trust me on this one. I won't let you down, I promise." When she didn't answer him, he said, "At least think on it tonight, before you make a decision."

She looked down and away and said, "Okay."

Part 2.

Most of the people Olivia knew and loved came through the hallway of the courthouse that day, and one by one, she hugged each one, knowing it might be the last time she would see them as a free woman. Munch made it, and then Nick, even Captain Cragan, and Fin, who cast her an especially gentle glance and said, "No matter what happens, Liv, I'll do everything I can to protect you in there."

She smiled through blurry eyes, and then saw Amanda, who said as she approached, "I'm here. I'm sorry, I got caught waiting to book a perp."

The two women exchanged knowing looks at one another, and then Olivia wrapped her arms around Amanda and whispered, "I'll always remember everything you've done for me."

"Hey," Amanda said into her ear, her arm still clutching Olivia tightly, "don't be talking like that just yet. It's not over 'til it's over."

She pulled away, and Olivia saw Elliot eyeing Amanda. "Can we talk for a minute?" he said, nodding his head away from the crowd. Olivia watched as they had a private conversation, and wondered what he could be talking to her about that he couldn't say in front of Olivia.

As Elliot took her home, though, she quickly forgot about their private exchange. She stayed silent all the way back to Elliot's apartment, trying not to remind herself that she might be behind bars by this time tomorrow. Elliot grabbed her hand halfway home, caressing it gently, but as comforting the gesture was, it couldn't ease the tightness in her chest.

She had barely set foot inside the apartment when she said, "Elliot, what if I—"

"What?" he said.

She shook her head, but he did not accept that, saying, "What if you what?"

Her eyes met his, and she didn't know how, but he knew what she was thinking. "What if you ran?" he said. Brushing a strand of hair back from her cheek with his fingers, he said, "Liv, don't. Please, just trust me. Everything's going to be okay."

She searched for answers in his eyes, but all she could think about was that this might be her last night with him, and that made her face sting and her shoulders sag. As he continued to stroke her hair, she decided to make the most of their last moments together, and leaned forward to rest her lips on his.

Tilting their heads to fit their lips together perfectly, they deepened their kiss, and something stirred within Olivia that she could no longer hold back. She leaned into the kiss, sinking her mouth hard into his, and pressed her body against him, holding onto him around the waist so he couldn't retreat.

But he did not resist, and as he pulled his mouth from hers for air, he let out a little gasp and whispered, "Liv. Wow." His hand, which had been stroking the back of her, grasped a handful of hair now—just enough to send chills into her scalp, but not enough to hurt. He used this grip to guide her head back to him so he could crush his open mouth against hers, exploring the inside of it with his tongue.

His erection pushed against her belly, and a mixture of nervous current and eager buzzing swept through her body, confusing her. His other hand slid from her back to her chest, flirting with her breast. She pulled her mouth from his and began to pant, trying to decide whether or not to let him go further.

In the past, there would have been no question. She would have let loose and allowed him to ravage her, giving as much as she received. But now, after her assault, even though she still had the desire, she feared that her body wasn't ready yet, or that it might never be.

This was something no medical doctor could tell her. "Scar tissue" and "sloughed-off skin" gave her no idea of the actual physical sensations she could look forward to. But this might be her last chance to find out, her last night to share the most intimate of acts with a man she loved and cared for deeply, and whom she may never see outside of a jail cell for the next five years or so.

She made up her mind and, trembling, grabbed his steely arm and guided it to her breast. He moaned and grew even harder, and she glanced at his face to see his eyes closed and jaw set in ecstasy. Alarm bells went off in her head, reminding her that men were dangerous and not to be toyed with, but she kept going, following her body's lead. She thrust herself into him, sliding her hand down to his crotch at the same time.

"Whoa," he said in a breathy voice, obviously fighting urges to set all caution to the wind. "You sure about this, Liv?"

"You want it, right?" she said, her voice sappy.

"Don't get me wrong," he said, his eyes dreamy. "This is better than anything I ever expected. But are you sure you're okay with it? Because you don't have to do this just to make me happy."

"It's not just for you," she said, her voice never rising above a murmur. "I want it too. I've been fighting it, but I want you so bad—"

As she said the words, he dug into her breast with his fingers, and she groaned and began to hastily unzip his pants. They quickly removed articles of clothing from one another, and he picked her up with a smarmy grin and hoisted her into the bedroom, where they continued to explore each other with their hands, their mouths, and every part of their bodies.

When the moment was right for him to insert himself inside her, she tensed up, heart thrashing inside her chest while she throbbed for him everywhere else. As she spread her legs to receive him, she clenched her eyes and her mouth her mouth shut, and began to breathe a little too heavy.

He stopped, apparently noticing that she had gone rigid. "Hey," he said, and when she didn't open her eyes, he repeated himself while stroking her hair with his hand. "Hey, you okay?"

She opened her eyes now and nodded curtly. "Yeah, go ahead."

But instead, he pulled away from her, and lay down next to her, carefully avoiding touching her naked body. "No, you're not," he said.

Trying not to sound annoyed, she said, "Yeah, I'm fine, El. Let's do this."

He stared at her face, trying to ascertain whether to follow her words or her expression, and then said, "I don't believe you."

She let out a chest-full of air and withdrew from him completely, lying still on her back. "Why?" she said.

"Because you don't look ready." He paused, and said lightly, "You looked like you couldn't get enough of it a few minutes ago, but now you look scared half to death."

She bit her bottom lip and stared straight up at the ceiling. "I just . . . I want to, Elliot. It may be our last night together in a long time, and . . ." She fought to keep tears from escaping, but they gathered at the corners of her eyes, waiting to unleash at a moment's notice. She turned her head so she could see the admiration in his eyes, and said, "I love you, Elliot. And I want you. I just wanted to show you how much."

"Aaah," he said, running his thumb over her cheek to wipe away a tear that managed to get away from her control. "You don't have to do that, Liv. I know you love me. I can feel it. And I hope you know that I love you. I know I don't say it, and I should—"

"Ssshh—" she said, covering his mouth with her fingers. "No 'shoulds' tonight. I really do want you bad. My body is aching to have you. But when I got to the point of no return," she sighed, "I panicked. It felt a little too close to—"

"I know," he said. "You don't have to tell me."

They held each other lovingly, caressing one another non-sexually, and agreed silently that they would wait to go all the way, until sometime in the future, be it tomorrow or five years from now.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Author's comments: **__Yes, it's right. Keep reading.___

_._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Part 1.

She shivered in her cell, which smelled like stale blood mixed with urine, so she was actually relieved when her C.O. came to get her to take her to the warden's office. Instead, the warden met them at a storage area, hidden away below the ground, where harsh lines of unrecognizable objects stood in stark contrast to the surrounding shadows.

The C.O. tried to put her on a musky mattress, but she wasn't going there. She kicked and fought until he finally gave up and knocked her to the ground, her head slamming against the concrete floor. Two line-ridden faces looked down at her, one of them forming the outline of the warden, who she begged to let her go.

Hands grabbed at her clothing and then her bare skin, and she screamed and thrashed wildly until someone thrust an arm in her mouth, and she couldn't speak, couldn't breathe . . . until the solid angles of the dark room gave way to downy pillows, and men's hands groping her melted away into gentle fingers massaging the back of her neck, and Elliot's voice saying, "Hey, Liv, it's okay."

She gasped for air and blinked away the dream, saying, "I can't go to prison, El."

"Let it play out today," he said.

Her breathing slowed and, looking at his confident expression, she said, "I'm trusting you." She gulped. "But you better be right, because I'll do whatever it takes to stay out."

Part 2.

"I call Elliot Stabler to the stand," said Langan.

Elliot stood tall and adjusted his tie. He knew Olivia meant what she said—that she would do anything to stay out of prison, possibly even taking her own life. She had tried once already, and he knew she wouldn't fail a second time.

He sat on the witness seat and kept his eyes glued on her, as a reminder that her fate rested in his hands. "Mr. Stabler, were you there at the time Ms. Benson shot Mr. Lewis?"

"Yes, yes I was."

"You witnessed the entire thing?"

Elliot shifted in his seat. "Yes."

"Can you describe the events immediately leading up to the shooting?"

"I, uh . . . I came into the warehouse with another SVU detective—Detective Rollins—and we immediately spotted Ms. Benson," he cast a glance at Olivia, her elbows propped on the table and hands knotted together in front of her mouth, "standing a few feet away from Mr. Lewis with her gun pointed at him."

Langan lowered his voice to convey his seriousness about the matter. "And just to be clear, Mr. Lewis was naked."

"Yes."

"And then what happened?"

He closed his eyes, trying to reconstruct the scene in his head. "I . . . I aimed my gun at Mr. Lewis as well, as he was the prime suspect, and still is, in her rape." He took a deep breath and said, "And I told her to put the gun down. I told her she didn't want to do this."

"And what did she do?" said Langan, turning to face the jury.

Elliot cast his eyes down into a corner. "She said, 'No, you're right, I don't,' and began to lower her gun."

"And then what happened?"

Thrusting his chin forward, Elliot looked Langan straight in the eye, and said, "As she was lowering the gun, it went off. She looked . . . startled, and threw her hands in the air." He looked over at Olivia, who had lowered her hands and begun to stare at him with wide eyes. He prayed she didn't look too surprised to the jury. He met Langan's eyes again, and hoped that nobody else could see the confusion in them. "She was visibly shaken, and she said, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it.' She was in shock, and she said the gun just . . . went off. I don't think she meant to pull the trigger, honestly."

"Objection, the witness cannot testify to his opinion!" said Cutter in protest.

"Sustained. Just keep to the facts, Mr. Stabler," said Judge Barth.

Langan stood silently for a moment, apparently trying to regroup and adjust his line of questioning. "So," he said finally, "what led you to believe that, Detective Stabler?"

He said softly, "Because she said so, and her expression looked like one of surprise and shock, not one of anger."

Cutter began to shuffle furiously through his notes. Langan paused for a moment, and then said, "No further questions, Your Honor."

"Detective Stabler," said Cutter, angrily waving a piece of paper. "I have here the report you filed following the assault on Mr. Lewis, and I don't find anything in here about statements from the defendant to the effect that she did not mean to fire the gun."

Elliot feigned surprise. "Oh, was it not in there?" He shook his head and leaned back, saying, "You know, I was still in a lot of shock over all this—"

"Ms. Benson being your former partner and all."

Elliot nodded. "Yeah. She was my former partner. Anyway, you know, sometimes when you're filling out those forms, you forget to put in details, but it always stays up here." He pointed to his head.

"I find that to be an incredibly important detail," said Cutter.

"Yeah, me too," said Elliot, casting a steely glare at Cutter. "Which is why I'm telling it to you."

"So, I'm confused," said Cutter. "If she didn't mean to do it, and it was just an accident, why would she run out into a crowd of police, gun drawn?"

"Objection," said Langan, "Mr. Cutter didn't want Mr. Stabler to speculate before, and now he's asking for his opinion on someone else's motives?"

Before the judge could sustain the objection, Elliot said, "It's alright, I'd be glad to answer that one. See, Ms. Benson worked an undercover assignment in prison once, and was assaulted by a prison guard, so I'm assuming she just panicked when she realized she had shot Mr. Lewis. Even the thought of going to prison would probably terrify her, especially if she had PTSD from being raped and tortured for twelve hours."

Elliot returned Cutter's smug scowl. But Elliot won the staring contest when Cutter turned away and said, "No further questions."

Part 3.

Olivia had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping to the floor during Elliot's testimony. She raised an eyebrow at him as he walked out of the courtroom. Amanda, who had been sequestered in the hallway during his testimony, was called to the stand next, and Olivia's mind raced with questions about how her testimony could possibly support Elliot's.

"Detective Rollins, could you give us an account of the events leading up to the shooting?" Langan said.

"Sure," said Amanda, and she proceeded to recount the same story of entering the warehouse to find Olivia pointing her gun at Lewis-sans-clothing. "And then Detective Stabler told her to put the gun down," she continued haltingly, her words falling heavy on the stark silence of the room, "and she started to. But as she lowered her gun, it went off, and I think it scared all of us."

"Then what happened?" said Langan.

"When she realized what she had done, she . . . brought her hand to her mouth," said Amanda, mimicking the action with her own hand, "and then she said, 'Oh my God, I didn't mean to—'"

"Did she say anything else?"

"Yeah, she said she didn't know how it happened, that her finger must have slipped, and I believed her, because her hands were trembling real bad when she was pointing the gun. I mean, you should have seen what this guy did it her, it was no wonder she was shaking so bad—"

"Objection," said Cutter.

"Sorry," said Amanda. "I just really don't think she meant to do it."

"Nothing further," said Langan.

Olivia stared at Amanda, who finally met her gaze, eyes wide from the lies she had just told.


	30. Chapter 30

_**Author's comments: **__This one's short and sweet. There's a little more coming though. _

_Boring procedural shit: In real life, Stabler would be sequestered in the hallway until he testified, so that he couldn't be influenced by other witnesses. But for the story, I just wanted the added emotional element of having him witness Olivia's testimony._

_ So what's with the twenty-four? That's how many hours it took from the time Olivia's torture began to the time she resolved to get revenge. It's also how many days it took for her to go after Lewis. I was going to then stretch it out to twenty-four weeks until the end of trial, but I just couldn't justify keeping it going that long. Oh well. ._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Thirty

Part 1.

Cutter cross-examined Amanda ruthlessly, but she stuck with her story, testifying that she rushed through her report, and accidentally left out a few things. Olivia watched, frozen in place, as Amanda stepped down from the witness stand and left the courtroom. So her co-workers had conspired to cover her crime, but she wondered if it would it be enough to convince the jury despite their conflicting reports.

She heard bits and pieces of the closing arguments, through the cloud of her jumbled thoughts. She concentrated enough to catch Langan saying, "reputable detective," and "fourteen dedicated years," and "traumatized by the brutal rape and torture inflicted on her." He finished out by reminding the jury of the law, saying, "If there is no intent, there is no assault, and the prosecution has no conclusive proof that Detective Benson meant to shoot that man."

Part 2.

Olivia burst through the tall wooden doors in the marble-covered hallway and put her hands to her face. She did not approach Elliot, because she didn't want to risk anyone witnessing her berating him for lying on the stand. Instead, she quietly mumbled to her attorney, saying, "I can't believe this. What's going to happen?"

But Langan looked just as baffled as she felt. "I don't know," he said. "But I had to change the theory of the case mid-trial. If they believe your partner and Rollins, they have to acquit. There can't be assault without the element of intent."

"Good job," said Cutter, approaching Langan with an outstretched hand. "You did great getting your detectives to perjure themselves on the stands."

"I in no way influenced their testimony," said Langan, holding up his hands.

"No offense, Detective Benson," Cutter said, looking at her, "but if she walks, I'm contacting IAB to look into their stories."

"Double jeopardy still attaches," said Langan. "If she's acquitted now, she can't be tried again."

Elliot stood by a marble column, ignoring her. She didn't dare speak to him or Amanda now, at the risk of jeopardizing her case. Instead, she sat on a bench and tried to hold herself together while she awaited her fate.

Part 3.

"All rise," said the bailiff, and Olivia stumbled to her feet as the judge entered the courtroom. One by one, the jurors marched in to deliver their verdict. It had only taken them an hour and a half to deliberate, but it had seemed like days had passed since she last sat in this spot.

She closed her eyes, gulping at the stale air, listening to the occasional shuffling of shoes that broke the stifling silence. "We, the members of the jury, find the defendant not guilty . . ."

Her eyes popped open and she covered her hands with her mouth as an uproar stirred behind her, and she turned to see several of her squad members, bright faces reveling in the outcome. They hoarded her as she tried to make her way out of the courtroom, some of them hugging her, some patting her on the back. Elliot stood out, glowing, and she went to him now, relieved to have this opportunity to embrace him once again. As she grasped him tightly, she nuzzled her head against his and said into his ear, "You crazy bastard."

She picked out Amanda standing nonchalantly in the crowd and went to her, grasping her hand and staring into her eyes, wordlessly conveying her gratitude. Amanda wrapped her arms around her in a hug and said in a low voice to avoid being overheard, "I couldn't let you go live with the skells."

Olivia whispered back, "You put your career on the line."

"It was worth it," said Amanda, sniffling.

As she came out into the hallway, Lewis' was parked in his wheelchair, facing her. She tried to avoid him by giving him several feet of clearance, but he called out, "I won't be in jail forever, Detective Benson, and I won't forget. Always remember my face—we can finish what we started later."

She refused to look at him, but Elliot charged past her straight to him and leaned over him, raising a knee and setting it down on Lewis' groin. When reality hit home, Olivia flew to them as Lewis shrieked. She tried to pull Elliot away, but he had his eyes fixed on Lewis, and said through his teeth, "You ever lay a hand on her again, and I will personally pull the trigger myself. And this time, there won't be anything left of you."

"Elliot," shouted Olivia, pulling on his arm with all her might. He backed off on his own and shot one last glare at Lewis before turning away, wiping spittle from his chin. She kept pulling at Elliot, dragging him away from Lewis in case he lost his cool again, and Lewis whimpered in pain.

"I'm sorry," Elliot said to her, still panting.

She smiled tightly and said, "It's okay. I just didn't want you to put the final ax to your job."


	31. Chapter 31

_**Author's comments: **__Wow. Whew. Took forever to get this one right. I'm sweating. Who needs freakin' romance novels when you have this? _

_ Man, but you guys are insatiable, lol. So, here's what I'm gonna do. I had planned on just ending this story here, and I still am. But I'm going to write another one real soon, and I'm just going to continue on where I left off, giving a little backstory at the beginning so that people who didn't read this one will know what the heck is going on. It's going to be a stand-alone story, though, so the main story is unrelated to this one, but parts of this one bleed through. I guess I can't really explain it, I just have to show you, lol. The new story will be called __**"I Wanna Dance Without You"**__._

**Twenty-four**

Chapter Thirty-One

Part 1.

A whirlwind of emotions swirled in Olivia's head on the way home. The boulder that was the threat of prison disappeared instantly with the announcement of the verdict. Although Olivia still had some physical healing to do, she practically floated, her energy recharged to a level it had not been since before the assault.

She glanced at Elliot, who was driving. "You can wipe that stupid grin off your face," she said, but she had caught his contagious smile, and now wore one of her own.

He took his eyes off the road long enough to admire her buoyant expression, and said, "So how does it feel to be free?"

She nodded and closed her eyes. "I just can't believe it, I thought I was going to be fighting off some butch celly named Large Marge trying to make me her bitch tonight."

Elliot chuckled. Her smile diminished, and she said, "There's still Lewis' trial." Shadows from an overpass washed across Elliot's profile, causing his eyes to dim. She continued, saying, "But I feel a little safer knowing he'll be behind bars when he gets out of the hospital, since he didn't make bail."

"Yeah, because he killed off his only source of income—his defense attorney." Elliot glanced at her again, and then said cautiously, "How's your sessions with George going?"

She knew this was just an attempt to fish for her mental state without flat-out asking her. She shrugged and said, "You know." He cast a questioning glance, and she knew that answer was not going satisfy his curiosity. "They're helping."

Elliot didn't reply, and she knew he was waiting to see if she would give him more than that. "I, um . . ." she said, "I get flashbacks, and my hands tremble. I get low at times. Not as bad as before. I'm just going to take it one day at a time."

That answer seemed to satisfy Elliot, because a brief smile passed over his lips, and he reached out to hold her hand just before they got to the parking garage. "I'm glad you're feeling better," he said.

He waited for her to get out, and wordlessly came around the car, holding out his hand for her to take. She willingly obliged, cherishing the warmth of his firm fingers in contrast to the cool night air.

Noticing her shivering, he let go of her hand and shielded her from the wind with an arm around her shoulder. Something about the moment, with the crisp breeze carrying the aroma of stale bagels and the occasional passing couple giggling, captured her attention and made her forget about the horrors of the previous months. Instead, she wanted to laugh and cuddle and do regular things that regular people do. She rested her head against his shoulder for a few seconds, and she could almost feel him beaming.

In the elevator, she pulled away from him, and he didn't resist, but lowered his eyebrows at her, silently questioning her next moves. She picked up his hand in hers and turned facing him, wanting to see him and smell him and be near him. Still looking baffled, his eyes widened when she leaned into him and reached behind his head to caress it with her hand. And then the lines on his face softened as he recognized her look as one that he had seen before.

With the elevator still in motion, he leaned down and brought his lips hungrily to hers, and she eagerly accepted them, gasping as most of her body went numb and simultaneously lit up with pleasure, prickling from the disparity between the warmth of his skin against the cool ambient air. The elevator doors opened on his floor, and he barely stopped kissing her in time to stick his hand in the door and keep it from closing.

Reluctantly, he let go of her long enough for her to get out, and then she grabbed his hand and nearly dragged him, unresisting, to his door. It seemed like an eternity before he was able to fumble around enough to find the right key. She practically shoved him through the door, and her hands flew up to his face to draw him into a kiss so passionate that he almost lost his balance.

He gave in, and drew her body to him with taut muscles, arms that held firmly but would let go at one whisper from her. But she had no desire to be let go. She could not get enough of him, and she locked herself even tighter against him, ingesting his mouth, his hair, his smell, his taste.

He dragged his lips away from hers and rested them next to her ear, murmuring, "You're gonna have to slow down, or I'm gonna be too far gone in a minute."

In return, she breathed hard and fast into his ear, saying, "It's hard to stop—you're so irresistible right now."

Gasping at the friction from her body every time she moved, he said, "So what do you want to do?"

Her head spinning and body pulsing, she said solidly, "Let's do this."

They moved as one tangled mass to the nearest elevated surface, which happened to be the couch. Clothes flew off so fast that she would later forget ever removing them or who took off what. His naked skin nudged against her thighs and belly and breasts, making it difficult to distinguish his body from hers. His hands lifted her breasts with just the right balance of firmness and tenderness, causing her mouth to drop open and exhale one long breath.

She wrapped her legs around his waist while sitting on the arm of the couch, and he took the hint to rest his erection against her, but he stopped short of grinding against her, his eyes searching hers for signs of how far to take it. "It's okay," she whispered, but he stood still, allowing her to move forward at her own pace.

She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into his arms, cautiously aware of every sensation, trying to feel out any resistance from her own wary body. There was none, and as she rocked rhythmically against his hard-on, she began to respond in ways that signaled to her that she was ready to receive him.

She aligned herself and pulled him into her, and nothing but pleasant sensations passed through her body. Unable to keep a moan from escaping when he entered her, she said, "Elliot, this is good."

She took it slow, though, and accepted him in small increments, savoring every step deeper into the foray of passion. It was nothing like she had expected—she had thought there would be moments of friction, or that she would have to stop altogether. But he slid effortlessly into her tender recesses and folds, their movements lubricated by her utter trust in his intentions.

Her fears abandoned, her hands glided down to his ass, and she muscled him into her over and over again, grimacing from the flaring nerve endings that opened up in radiating ecstasy through her core and into her limbs. "Oh god, Elliot," she said, throwing her head back.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught him admiring her euphoric pose. As he bit his bottom lip, she knew this was not only healing for her, but it also brought back a sense of his manhood that he had not experienced in a long time.

She wanted him close to her now, closer than was humanly possible, so she brought her arms up to his back and drew him in so that his weight rested solidly on top of her, just short of crushing her. Somehow, it didn't restrict her. Somehow, the more the pressure, the safer she felt, and that sent a current through her that indicated she was nearing climax.

Her legs and arms began to chill, while her center heated up, and pins and needles pricked at her insides with ever increasing intensity. Wanting to possess him even more, she pulled his head down and planted her lips firmly on his, and he let out one long moan. She knew he was as ready as she was when he began to pump inside her hard and fast. Just as fingers of bliss exploded inside her, he thrust one final time, hard, and she knew he was spilling his seed inside her at the same time that spasms shook her core all the way through the base of her spine.

She took a second to get her bearings, her awareness moving from heights of ecstasy to their sweaty chests pressed against each other and his panting breaths in her ear. She let him stay on top of her, not wanting to remove the blanket of his body and let the mutually generated heat dissipate. He kissed her cheek, and she responded by lightly fondling his hair.

Catching his breath and looking into her eyes, he said, "Was it okay?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling, a tear carving a path down her cheek, "that was more than okay. I needed that. Thank you—you have no idea . . ."

She stopped herself, knowing that words could never convey the gratitude she was feeling. She brushed her lips lightly against his, and he responded by running his fingers through her disheveled hair. "Liv," he said, stars in his eyes, "I love you."

She smiled and said, "I love you too, El."

They lay like that, marveling over the freshness of each other's flesh, until Olivia caved to exhaustion and fell asleep. She remotely recalled him lifting her and carrying her into the bedroom, and depositing her in the bed. But tonight, there were no nightmares to awaken her, although his protective arms kept watch over her just the same.

Part 2.

The next morning was Saturday, and Olivia awoke to light splashing a path across her face from the nearby window. First, she noticed the puffy white clouds drifting by in the baby-blue sky that indicated a perfect weather day, and then she noticed that Elliot was not next to her in the bed. For a moment, her chest clenched, but soon she heard clattering in the other room, and she recognized his distinct footsteps.

He appeared in the doorway, wearing only his underwear, and said pleasantly, "Oh, good, you're awake. I have some breakfast for you in the other room."

Her heart glowed, and she practically bounded out of bed, accepting his offer of food for once. "So, what do you want to do today?" she asked tentatively while devouring her meal of eggs and an English muffin. "I'm a free woman now. I'm up for anything."

"Anything, huh?" he said, his smile devious. "You know, I was thinking maybe we could go to the museum, there's a new exhibit, and I know how you like artwork—"

Noticing her staring at him, he said, "What?"

She picked up her plate and took it the sink, and he followed her. She turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his waist, saying in her most coy tone, "You know, I thought we might stay home this morning. Maybe go out later?"

He caught the meaning from the glint in her eyes, and laughed, saying, "Mmmmm, you know, I don't think I can say no to that right now."

As he bent down to kiss her, she knew that some sort of psychological precipice had been scaled, and the balance had tipped in her favor. With the harsh torment of trauma had come the gift she had waited for her whole life—love, wrapped in the package of Elliot Stabler.

THE END

_**End note:**__ Okay, so I know it's over-the-top and cheesy and a little too perfect to be believable. What can I say? I'm a believer in the fairy-tale ending._


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